"Gord knows I wushes I could holp you, honey. I 'ain't nuver is craved educatiom befo', but now, look like I'd like ter be king of all de smartness, an' know all dey is in de books. I wouldn't hol' back _noth'n_ f'om yer, baby." And Evelyn knew it was true. "Look ter me, baby," mammy suggested, another night, after listening to a highly imaginative story--"look ter me like ef--ef--ef you'd des write down some _truly truth_ what is _ac-chilly happened_, an' glorify it wid educatiom, hit 'd des nachelly stan' in a book." "I've been thinking of that," said Evelyn, reflectively, laying aside her manuscript. * * * * * "How does this sound, mammy?" she asked, a week later, when, taking up an unfinished tale, she began to read. It was the story of their own lives, dating from the sale of the plantation. The names, of course, were changed, excepting Blink's, and, indeed, until he appeared upon the scene, although mammy listened breathless, she did not recognize the characters. Blink, however, was unmistakable, and when he announced himself from the old woman's bosom his identity flashed upon mammy, and she tumbled over on the floor, laughing and crying alternately. Evelyn had written from her heart, and the story, simply told, held all the wrench of parting with old associations, while the spirit of courage and hope, which animated her, breathed in every line as she described their entrance upon their new life. "My heart was teched f'om de fus't, baby," said mammy, presently, wiping her eyes; "b-b-b-but look heah, honey, I'd--I'd be wuss'n a hycoprite ef I let dat noble ole black 'oman, de way you done specified 'er, stan' fur me. Y-y-yer got ter change all dat, honey. Dey warn't nothin' on top o' dis roun' worl' what fetched me 'long wid y' all but 'cep' 'caze I des _nachelly love yer_, an' all dat book granjer what you done laid on me I _don' know nothin' 't all about it_, an' yer got ter _teck it orf_, an' write me down like I is, des a po' ole nigger wha' done fell in wid de Gord-blessedes' white folks wha' ever lived on dis earth, an'--an' wha' gwine _foller_ 'em an' _stay by 'em_, don' keer which-a-way dee go, so long as 'er ole han's is able ter holp 'em. Yer got ter change all dat, honey. "But Blink! De laws-o'-mussy! Maybe hit's 'caze I been hatched 'im an' raised 'im, but look ter me like he ain't no _dis_grace ter de story, no way. Seem like he sets orf de book. Yer ain't gwine say nothin' 'bout Blink bein' a frizzly, is yer? 'Twouldn't do no good ter tell it on 'im." "I didn't know it, mammy."