“And you shall see Doosa, my darling boy! You shall see Doosa before the sun goes down. You shall sleep on your mother’s bosom to-night, little Lenny!” exclaimed Alexander, in great agitation, as he went to the child and held out his arms. But Lenny turned away and clasped his own arms around Meg’s neck and renewed his plaintive cry: “I want to see Doosa! I want to see Doosa so bad! I don’t want anybody esse!” “And so you shall see Doosa, my beloved boy. Look at me, little Lenny! don’t you know me?” coaxed Alexander. “Ess, I do! But I want see Doosa!” “Look at me, my darling! Come to me! I will take you to Doosa directly!” pleaded Alexander, holding out his arms and gazing earnestly in the face of his son. Now little Lenny had been deceived by fair but false promises, and his faith was failing. But there was an earnest truthfulness in the looks and words of the man that now carried conviction to the heart of the child. His face lightened, beamed, became transfigured with ecstasy: “You tate me see Doosa? You tate me now?” he joyously exclaimed. “Yes, my darling, now this moment! Come to me,” said Alexander, still holding out his arms. Lenny bounded into them. “Oh, sir! you will not take him from me! It would break my heart! he is all I have to love in the world, all that loves me! I would work my fingers to the bones, I would for him! Please, sir, don’t take him away!” cried Meg, lifting the corner of her apron to her eyes. “I must take him to his mother, my girl. She too is pining for him,” said Alexander, kindly. “Oh, Lenny, you won’t leave me! You won’t leave poor Met?” she wept, appealing to the child. “No! no! no!” said Master Leonard, peremptorily. “_Not_ leave Met! Met go too! Met go too! Met go too!” “But, my darling, Met can’t go!” “I will, I will, I will! Lenny love Met! Lenny not leave Met. Met go too!” “But, Met cannot go,” remonstrated the father. “Oh, yes, sir, I can,” sobbed Meg. “If you will take him, I can go, if you will let me; and I will be a faithful servant to him all my life, and never want any wages.” “Met go too! Met go too!” sang out little Lenny. It was the chorus of the song. “But, my girl, how can you go? I would willingly reward you for the care you must have bestowed upon my child, who, but for you, might have perished in this horrible place, but how can I take you away? you have parents or guardians who must be consulted.” Meg left off crying, and laughed aloud; “No, sir; little ladies and gentlemen have them things, not the likes of us! The people I live with ain’t no kin to me, though I do call the men uncle, and the woman grannam; I am only their drudge, sir; I am free to go with the child; if you will let me.” “Met go too! Met go too!” cried the little despot, beginning now to scream and kick with impatience. He had not been used to have his will crossed. He had been accustomed to prompt obedience from his white slaves. “I see that you are ‘a chip of the old block,’” smiled Alexander.