When Mistis saw de Chrismus cake an’ heahd ’bout dem thum’s She say, “Dat niggah Scipio shan’t ebin hab de crum’s;” An’ when dat walk wuz ober you cud see rite on he face— Don’ stick yo’ thum’s in plum cake an’ git yo’sef disgrace. Da ain’ no use ub talkin’; it’s al’ays out ub place Ter stick yo’ thum’s in anyt’ing ter ebin git uh tase— Ornless you bin inwited, an’ den it’s al’ays bes’ Ter wait an’ hab cool fingahs an’ eat wid all de res’. WHEN SAUL RUN ERWAY. Miss Marg’retta wuz ve’y fon’ ub Saul, an’ when he run erway hit ’stress huh pow’ful. Uh showman cum ’long wid uh circus an’ ’swaded po’ Saul ter go. Miss Marg’retta teach him ter read an’ rite, kase da wuz recommembrances clustah’d ’roun’ Saul’s mammy dat made Miss Marg’retta fon’ ub de chile. Lars’ week I had uh lettah fum de po’ boy, rote fum Balt’mo’. Mars Pinckney red hit fuh me, an’ hit say dat when de circus got ter Balt’mo’ de showman sot him ter wuck feedin’ de snakes. Saul’s letter spressify dat he lef’ dat circus in uh run! Saul al’ays wuz smart. He! He! He! Ef’n he had fed dem snakes, he mite bin ’flicted like Uncle Snake-bit Jim. Arfter uh few days Saul say he got de place ub waitah on uh tugboat; uh nice place, but de lettah say he wuz so sad an’ lonesom’ he wuz mos’ dead. (’Skuse meh cryin’, Muhtilda.) He say he misses de ribber so—de cluckin’ hens, crowin’ roostus, de calbes moanin’ fuh deah ma’s, de sweet little skippin’ lam’s an’ de singin’ birds—but he say he mos’ miss Mars Nickey’s houn’s, an’ dat he will nebber refuse ter hunt fuh hens’ nesses fuh he aunty ef’n he kin git home, but he sho’ Ole Mars won’ let his foot tech Woodstock. Fus’ I tho’t ub gwine ter Ole Mistis, but she so sad I ’cided not ter trubble huh. Muhtilda, she will nebber git ober de deaf ub Mars Francis. Ev’y day befo’ he died she teck uh barsket on huh ahm, pahr cissers in huh han’, an’ go ter de gyarden befo’ de jewdraps of’n de flowers, an’ wid dem cissers she wud cut wiolets, heal’trope, ’benas, sweet-lizziums, roses an’ udder sweet flowers, tell de barsket full. Den Mistis wud meck ’em in bokays, an’ meck me ty ’em wid lamp wick. You see hit’s sorf, an’ don’ squench de flowers. Dem days I had ter put one ub de bokays in ev’y room, but dese days she don’ hab no bokays; jes’ puts all dem flowers ev’y mawnin’ on Mars Francis’ grabe. Whenebber I tho’t ub po’ Saul meh hyart got sick; ’pears ter me ’twuz sick all de time. So I wa’k up an’ down de gyarden prayin’ sorf ter mehsef, thinkin’ an’ thinkin’, so I ’cluded ter see Ole Mars, an’ bine meh haid up’n uh hankcheah an’ wen’ ter see Ole Mars erboutin Saul. He wuz gwine fox huntin’, wuz settin’ in de hall, Damon wuz puttin’ on he spuhs, when I wa’k in, made uh curchysy an’ cummenc’ ter cry an’ limp. Ole Mars lif’ up he hainsome face an’ say: “Well, Sookey, what’s de matter?” [Illustration: So I bine meh haid up’n uh hankcheah an’ wen’ ter see Ole Mars boutin Saul. ]