“What about your husband and the ‘forty acres and the mule,’ Aunt Matt?” asked the ruddy-faced young man who had just arrived from the city to visit his father and mother at the old home place on the farm. “It’s fine weather, Mister Eddie, an’ de cotton an’ de corn is des growin’ a inch or two ever’ night,” said Matt Tite, a tall, thin-faced negress of the ante-bellum type, smiling. “Don’t evade the question, Matt; tell these boys about Tite and the carpet-baggers,” insisted the visitor. “Out with it, I want to hear the story again.” “Chile, ain’t you never gwine to fergit dat? I walked eight miles to git here to see you, but ef I’d er knowed dat you wuz gwine to pester me ’bout Tite an’ de Ku Kluxes I sho’ wouldn’t a come. “I’s done fergit de perticlers uv dat story.” “You know enough to make it interesting; tell it.” “Tite’s done fergit de forty acres an’ de mule, an’ ef I des wanter have er fight, let me mention it in his presence. “You know Tite wuz one uv Marse John Robinson’s niggers ’fo’ s’render. Marse John wuz a powerful big man in dem times ef he is po’ now. He had lots uv lan’ an’ niggers, an’ wuz mighty good to his slaves. Tite wuz a good nigger, an’ Marse John làked him, an’ arter de war he stay on at de ole place an’ seem satisfied till dem cearpet-baggers (dat’s what de white folks called dem) fust come sneakin’ around, puttin’ de devil in de niggers’ haid, promisin’ all kinds uv things, an’ given dem nuthin’ but trouble. “’Twuz soon arter s’render when me an’ Tite married. I had b’longed to Marse Jeems Walkup, an’ a mighty good man, too, he wuz. When I marry Tite I move to de Robinson place to live wid him, an’ we all git ’long fine fur a while. Tite he wucked ’bout de farm an’ I hep ’roun’ de Big House. Ole Miss Jane done say dat she been wantin’ me fur de longes’ sort uv time. “One night, when me an’ Tite start ’way fum de kitchen, I seed a rabbit cross de road in front uv us, an’ I ’low right den dere wuz bad luck ahead fur him an’ me. Ole Missus uster say ef a rabbit cross yo’ path somefin’ bad woul’ sho’ happen to you. “Sho’ nuff, chile, hit done come. Bad times ’gin on dat plantation an’ ’roun’ dat neighborhood dat very night. When me an’ Tite git home dar come ’long a strange white man, lookin’ lak er peddler, totin’ a police on his arm. Comin’ nigh he say to me an’ Tite, ‘Howdy-do, Miss Robinson an’ Mr. Robinson?’ “I look ’roun’ to see ef Ole Marses an’ Missus wuz dere, fur I knowed we wuz no ‘Miss Robinson’ an’ ‘Mr. Robinson.’ But, bless yo’ sole, honey, he wuz talkin’ to nobudy but me an’ Tite. I look at de man spicious lak right den, an’ kinder git skeered. He ’gin to talk ’bout sellin’ us some specs an’ julery, an’ sich lak, but soon he tell Tite dat he’s sont dere fum de Norf to talk ’bout de comin’ ’lection. He ’low dat he’s been heerin’ ’bout Tite, an’ tell him dat he’s one of de big niggers uv de country ef he des only knowed it. Tite he say nuthin’ but de white man des keep on an’ on.