'Thet arn't all; what's th'rest?' 'Dandy Jim of ole Car'lina.' 'Who made ye?' 'De good God, massa.' 'No, he didn't; God doan't make little nigs. He makes none but white folks,' said the master, laughing. 'Yas, he'm do; missus say he'm do; dat he make dis nig jess like he done little Totty.' 'Wal, he did, Jim. I'm d--d ef _He_ didn't, fur nobody else cud make _ye!_' replied the man, patting the little wooly head with undisguised affection. 'Now, Jim, say th' creed fur 'de gem-man.'' The young darky then repeated the Apostles' Creed and the Ten Commandments. 'Is thet all ye knows?' 'No, massa, I knows a heap 'sides dat.' 'Wal, say suthin' more; sum on 'em pieces thet jingle.' The little fellow then repeated with entire correctness, and with appropriate gestures and emphasis, though in the genuine darky dialect--which seems to be inborn with the pure, Southern black--Mrs. Hemans' poem: 'The boy stood on the burning deck.' 'Mrs. Hemans draped in black!' I exclaimed, laughing heartily; 'How would the good lady feel, could she look down from where she is, and hear a little darky doing up her poetry in that style?' 'D--d ef I doan't b'lieve'twud make her love th' little nig like I do,' replied the corn-cracker, taking him up on his knee as tenderly as he would have taken up his own child. 'Tell me, my little man,' I said, 'who taught you all these things?' 'I lamed 'em myseff, sar,' was the prompt reply. 'You learned them yourself! but who taught you to read?' 'I larned 'em myseff, sar!' 'You couldn't have learned _that_ yourself; didn't your 'massa' teach you?' 'No, sar.' 'Oh! your 'missus' did?' 'No, sar.' 'No, sar!' I repeated; then suspecting the real state of the case, I looked him sternly in the eye, and said: 'My little man, it's wrong to tell lies, you must _always_ speak the truth; now, tell me truly, did not your 'missus' teach you these things?' 'No, sar, I larned 'em myseff.' 'Ye can't cum it, stranger; ye moight roast him over a slow fire, an' not git nary a thing eout on him but thet,' said the corn-cracker, leaning forward, and breaking into a boisterous fit of laughter. 'It's agin th' law, an' I'm d--d ef _I_ teached him. Reckon he _did_ larn himself!' 'I must know your wife, my friend. She's a good woman.' 'Good! ye kin bet high on thet; she's uv th' stuff th' Lord makes angels eout on.' I had no doubt of it, and was about to say so, when the Colonel's turpentine-wagon drove up, and I remembered I had left him too long alone. The coachman was driving, and Jim sat on the wagon beside him. 'Massa K--,' said the latter, getting down and coming to me, 'Whar am dey?' 'In the spirit-shed.' He was turning to go there, when I called him back, saying: 'Jim, you must not see your master now; you'd better keep out of sight for the present.' 'No, massa; de ma'am say de Cunnel take dis bery hard, and dat I orter tell him I'se sorry for what I'se done.' 'Well, wait awhile. Let me go in first.'