“Yes, suh, I never was one of them folks as ain't satisfied unless they're always a-fussin',” he remarked, as he placed the pitcher upon the table. “Thar's a sight of them kind in these here parts, but I ain't one of 'em. Lord, Lord, I tell 'em, befo' you git ready to jump out of the fryin' pan, you'd better make mighty sure you ain't fixin' to land yo'self in the fire. That's what I always had agin these here abolitionists as used to come pokin' round here--they ain't never learned to set down an' cross thar hands, an' leave the Lord to mind his own business. Bless my soul, I reckon they'd have wanted to have a hand in that little fuss of Lucifer's if they'd been alive--that's what I tell 'em, suh. An' now thar's all this talk about the freein' of the niggers--free? What are they goin' to do with 'em after they're done set 'em free? Ain't they the sons of Ham? I ask 'em; an' warn't they made to be servants of servants like the Bible says? It's a bold man that goes plum agin the Bible, and flies smack into the face of God Almighty--it's a bold man, an' he ain't me, suh. What I say is, if the Lord can stand it, I reckon the rest of the country--” He paused to draw breath, and Dan laid down his knife and fork and pushed back his chair. “Before you begin again, Jack,” he said coolly, “will you spare enough wind to carry me upstairs?” “That's what I tell 'em,” pursued Jack amiably, as he lighted a candle and led the way into the hall. “They used to come down here every once in a while an' try to draw me out; and one of 'em 'most got a coat of tar an' feathers for meddlin' with my man Lacy; but if the Lord--here we are, here we are.” He stopped upon the landing and opened the door of a long room, in which Mrs. Hicks was putting the last touches to the bed. She stopped as Dan came in, and by the pale flicker of a tallow candle stood looking at him from the threshold. “If you'll jest knock on the floor when you wake up, I'll know when to send yo' hot water,” she said, “and if thar's anything else you want, you can jest knock agin.” With a smile he thanked her and promised to remember; and then as she went out into the hall, he bolted the door, and threw himself into a chair beside the window. Sleep had quite deserted him, and the dawn was on the mountains when at last he lay down and closed his eyes. XI AT MERRY OAKS TAVERN