“Bless it, mudder’s tweetest ’ittle darlin’ baby—its dittin’ well, so it is—and dey sant dive it no more natty fisies, and burn its tweet ’ittle mouf no more, so dey sant,” ses she; and the galls got round, and sich a everlastin’ gabblement as they did keep up. By this time it was most daylight, and after drinkin’ a cup of strong coffee what old Miss Stallins had made for him, and laughin’ at us for bein’ so skared at nothing, the good old docter bundled on his clothes, and went home to charge me five dollars for routin’ him out of his bed and makin’ him ride six miles in the cold. But I ain’t sorry we sent for him, for I do b’lieve if he hadn’t cum, we would dosed poor little Harry ded as a door nail before mornin’. The little feller is doin’ prime now, and if he was to have another attack of the hives, I’ll take monstrous good care they don’t give him no more dratted parrygorrick. So no more from Your frend, ’til deth, Jos. Jones. LETTER XI. Pineville, Ga., April 10th, 1844. Dear Sir, I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout ritin’ a letter one of these days, but the fact is, sense last Febuary, I hain’t had much time for nothing. The baby’s been cross as the mischief, most all the time sense it had the hives, and Mary, she’s beep ailin’ a good deal, ever sense she got that terrible scare last month—and then you know this time of year we planters is all as bissy as we can be, fixin’ for the crap. Nothin’ very uncommon hain’t took place down here sense I rit my last letter to you, only t’other day a catasterfy happened in our family that come monstrous nigh puttin’ a eend to the whole generation of us. I never was so near skeered out of my senses afore in all my born days, and I don’t b’lieve old Miss Stallins ever will git over it, if she was to live a thousand years. But I’ll tell you all about it. Last Monday mornin’ all of us got up well and harty as could be, and I sot in our room with Mary, and played with the baby till breckfust time, little thinkin’ what was gwine to happen so soon. The little feller was jumpin’ and crowin’ so I couldn’t hardly hold him in my arms, and spreadin’ his little mouth, and laughin’ jest like he know’d everything we sed to him. Bimeby, Ant Prissy cum to tell us breckfust was reddy, and we all went into t’other room to eat, ’cept sister Kesiah, who sed she would stay and take care of little Henry Clay, till we was done. Mary’s so careful she won’t trust the baby with none of the niggers a single minit, and she’s always dredful oneasy when Kesiah’s got it, she’s so wild and so careless. Well we sot down to breckfust, and Kesiah, she scampered up stairs to her room with the baby, jumpin’ it up, and kissin’ it, and talkin’ to it as hard as she could.