At the Memphis show, three of Ezra’s sheep took blue ribbons, one a red ribbon. He was standing in front of his sheep cot, two days after arriving—standing as though he was going to have his picture taken, delighted with himself and the blue ribbons. A man came along and said: “Has your Marster many sheep like these?” “Many? Erbout ten thousan’; dey jes’ run an’ tuck de fus’ dey kotch.” Another man said, “Whose sheep are these?” “Dey ’long ter Mars Matthew; his gre’t granpa, dey tell me, holp C’lumbus ’sciver Talbot County, an’ dat wuz befo’ de Petracks cum ober.” Presently a neat, likely looking mulatto girl came along, looked admiringly at Ezra, leaned over the rail of the sheep cot and said demurely, “Kin I pat one ub yo’ sheep?” “Sut’ny, honey; dey won’ bite,” Ezra said. “Do you lib ’roun’ heah?” “Yas, indeed;” and she added, “Wha you cum fum; ’roun’ heah?” “Bless meh soul an’ body an’ meh body an’ soul—ter think I cum fum dis place! Why, dar ain’ no salt watah heah! I cum fum de Eastern Sho’ ub Maryland, Talbot County. Uncle Stephen Viney say dat he heah John Poney say dat he heah Pawson Phil Demby say dat meh fambly bin libbin’ in Talbot County fum de times ub de Petracks. It’s de fines’ place on uth; don’ hab ter wuck much; da ain’ much lan’, mos’ ev’ything salt watah, ribbers, bays, creeks and cobes. Fuh instinct, I tecks meh boat”—— “Is you uh free pusson?” “Me? Dey don’ ’low free niggahs down dar; dey all qual’ty slabes.” “Well, you said you had uh boat.” “Sut’ny I did. Ef’n uh serbent wants uh boat he jes’ say ter Mars Matthew, ‘I wants uh pine tree, meh Marster, futto meck uh boat,’ an’ rite ’way he say, ‘Teck yo’ choice in de fores’;’ an’ den ten er twelbe serbents almos’ meck dat boat in one night; dey call ’em dug-outs. Well, I kin teck meh boat an’ cross de watah fum Mars Matthew’s ter Mars Jimmy’s, erbout uh harf mile, in uh harf hour an’ mebby fish meh net on de way; ef’n I had ter go by lan’, it wud be twelbe miles erroun’.” “Is de fishin’ good down da? Any mullets?” [Illustration: Meh name is Ezra, but dey call me Ezzy. ] “Mullets! We gib dem ter de hogs. We eats what dey call spot, hog-fish, yaller-neds, catfish, pearch, sheepshead, crokusses, bay mackrel—dat lars fish de bes’ ub all; don’ hab ter mobe yo’ lips an’ tongue ’tall; hit jes’ melt in yo’ mouf—an’ crabs an’ oysters dey almos’ beg you ter eat ’em. Coons in de swamps, an’ ’possums in mos’ ev’y ’simmon tree. Serbents don’ hab much ter do; I dress up dis way mos’ all de time.” “Well, you sut’ny do look peart in dat suit, an’ you sut’ny mus’ lib in uh pow’ful fine country. I’m a chambermaid, an’ ’longs ter Mars Bedford Forrest, who’s showin’ some game chickens an’ fine cattle, heah; dat’s one ub his serbents stan’in’ in front ub dem cattle; ax him ter bring you ’roun’ ter-night ter see me; I’s jes’ pinin’ ter heah sum mo’ erbout dem ribbers an’ ocean. Meh name is Muhtilda.” “Meh name is Ezra, but dey call me Ezzy.”