I say, “I heahd fum Saul; it meck me so ’stressed an’ po’ly, Marster. He say he so rejected an’ lonesom’, dat his hyart mos’ breck. He wan’ ter cum home.” Den Marster cuss an’ say: “Wha de scan’lus scoun’l at?” An’ I say wid meh hankcheah ter meh eyes, “Balt’mo’.” Den Ole Marster say: “Sookey, Saul’s muvva Nancy (yo’ sistah) wuz uh splendid ’ooman; nuss’d yo’ Miss Marg’retta when she had de scarlet fevah. Saul wuz uh baby, an’ she mos’ fogot Saul, she wuz so faithful ter yo’ Miss Marg’retta.” Den I say: “’Zac’ly so, precisely, Marster!” Den he say: “Nancy kotch de fevah an’ died; yo’ Miss Marg’retta wuz so ’stracted she mos’ ’dopted dat chile—tech him ter read an’ rite.” Den Mars Nickey cuss ergin an’ say: “Eddication mecks niggahs bad!” Den I say: “So hit do, Marster, so hit do; fuh hit sut’ny meck Saul bad. Fuh he wuz riz so careful. Miss Marg’retta ebin bo’t him uh nanny-goat fuh uh wet nuss, an’ dey got so fon’ one nerr dat when Saul wud tottle outin de quartah de goat wud ’mejately nanny, twinkle huh little tail jes’ like uh aspine leaf, run up ter de chile, an’ he wud set un’er dat goat, nuss huh hissef, an’ pat he han’s on de goat’s sides. It mecks me think ub yo’ son Mars Francis what died. I nuss him tell he so big he hab teef. When he wuz horngry he wud run up ter me same ez uh little lam’, pat meh bresses when he nussin’, same ez Saul did de goat’s sides, an’ sometimes when he feel sassy—mos’ got ernuff (jes’ playin’ wid de milk)—he wud bite me. An’ many uh time I had ter smack him hyard; an’ den his brite eyes, brite ez uh fish-hawk’s, but big an’ sorf, wud fill up wid teahs. Den he wud git in meh lap, pat meh ole face an’ say, ‘Mammy! Mammy!’ play wid an’ put he fingah froo meh earring, jes’ ez gentle an’ lubbin ez uh cherrypin er serrypin. My! he little fingah jes’ ez smoobe ez de inside ub uh oyster shell. Den I sing, ‘Git on bode, little chillun.’ Den he go ter sleep, an’ he bref on meh cheek jes’ ez sorf ez de down on uh goslin’.” Den I say, “Mars Nickey, he wuz de ve’y spit ub you!” Den Mars Nickey teck out his silk hankcheah, wipe he weepin’ eye, trem’lin mouf, an’ he say, “Sookey, teck uh seat!” Jes’ think ub meh settin’ down befo’ Ole Mars! Den he teck uh pinch ub snuff, th’ow some on de flounces ub he shut, call Damon an’ say, “Bring me some peach an’ honey!” Den he say: “I will ’struct Cap’n Stitchberry, de fus’ time de Margaret Jane sails fuh Balt’mo’, futto bring Saul home, but he kyant lib heah wid meh good an’ faithful serbents; he got ter lib at ‘Fausley,’ drap cawn, plough—be wuf sompin’. Kyant hab any mo’ boots. Tho’ Nancy wuz his mother, got ter weah shoes; I only gib de bes’ serbents boots!” Muhtilda, I jes’ natchelly swep’ de flo’ wid meh curchysys, I feel so thankful. An’ when I lef’ I say: “Meh Marster, yo’ mo’ an’ mo’ like Mars Francis ev’y day; same brite eyes, like uh fish-hawk’s, but sorf an’ big!”