"No indeed, and I do not believe I shall ever find them." "Grate King! Ole marser I specks dem dere pizen niggers shoolickin eround de offis dun und stroyed em outen puryfied cussedness." "Quite likely," rejoined the Colonel. "Lemme studdy er minit," said Clarissa. "Pears lak Ned gin me sum papers to stow erway in my ole blue chiss. Wud yu kno hit ef you wast to see hit mars Jon? Don't speck it is wurf nuffin do. Ned he gin hit to me way back yander, I dismember how long ergo, und he tole me to put it in de blu chiss, twell he ax for hit. Don't speck hit is ergwine to do mars Jon no good do, but hit haint ergwine to pizen noboddy ef hit don't doo no good. I'm ergwine to fetch it rite now." The old gentleman paid but little attention to the negro until he saw her returning with uplifted hand like a stalking spectre. "Now mars Jon," she cried, out of breath, "yu read dat paper, und cide fo yoself." As soon as the old man took the paper in his hand, he forgot his gouty joints, and his white hairs; he forgot who he was or where he was and danced a succession of Scottish reels with old Clarissa, as an unwilling partner. "Why father!" cried Alice in great fright, "Clarissa! Clarissa! What is the matter with my dear father?" "Oh! Oh! Oh! The mortgage and the note! The mortgage and the note!" wildly screamed her father. "Thank God! Thank God!" Clarissa, rubbing her head with both hands where it had struck a pillar in the wild whirl of the dance, emotionally exclaimed, "Bress de Lord; mars Jon has yu dun und gon plum crazy? I neber seed sich shines fo in all my born days; jambye busted dis ole hed wide open ergin dat postess." "Clarissa," excitedly exclaimed the Colonel, "you shall have forty acres and a mule too." "Grate Jurusulum! Mars Jon, whot I want wid dat lan? Und I dun got wun mule, und de Lord knose he tarrifies de life outen me."