She began to muse; she was trying to gather out of her memory the dim particulars of some tale she had heard some time or other.  At last she said—­

“Now I’s got it; now I ’member.  It was dat ole nigger preacher dat tole it, de time he come over here fum Illinois en preached in de nigger church.  He said dey ain’t nobody kin save his own self—­can’t do it by faith, can’t do it by works, can’t do it no way at all.  Free grace is de on’y way, en dat don’t come fum nobody but jis’ de Lord; en he kin give it to anybody He please, saint or sinner—­he don’t kyer.  He do jis’ as He’s a mineter.  He s’lect out anybody dat suit Him, en put another one in his place, and make de fust one happy forever en leave t’ other one to burn wid Satan.  De preacher said it was jist like dey done in Englan’ one time, long time ago.  De queen she lef’ her baby layin’ aroun’ one day, en went out callin’; an one ’o de niggers roun’bout de place dat was ‘mos’ white, she come in en see de chile layin’ aroun’, en tuck en put her own chile’s clo’s on de queen’s chile, en put de queen’s chile’s clo’es on her own chile, en den lef’ her own chile layin’ aroun’, en tuck en toted de queen’s chile home to de nigger quarter, en nobody ever foun’ it out, en her chile was de king bimeby, en sole de queen’s chile down de river one time when dey had to settle up de estate.  Dah, now—­de preacher said it his own self, en it ain’t no sin, ’ca’se white folks done it.  DEY done it—­yes, DEY done it; en not on’y jis’ common white folks nuther, but de biggest quality dey is in de whole bilin’. Oh, I’s so glad I ’member ’bout dat!”

She got lighthearted and happy, and went to the cradles, and spent what was left of the night “practicing.”  She would give her own child a light pat and say humbly, “Lay still, Marse Tom,” then give the real Tom a pat and say with severity, “Lay still, Chambers!  Does you want me to take somep’n to you?”

As she progressed with her practice, she was surprised to see how steadily and surely the awe which had kept her tongue reverent and her manner humble toward her young master was transferring itself to her speech and manner toward the usurper, and how similarly handy she was becoming in transferring her motherly curtness of speech and peremptoriness of manner to the unlucky heir of the ancient house of Driscoll.

She took occasional rests from practicing, and absorbed herself in calculating her chances.

“Dey’ll sell dese niggers today fo’ stealin’ de money, den dey’ll buy some mo’ dat don’t now de chillen—­so dat’s all right.  When I takes de chillen out to git de air, de minute I’s roun’ de corner I’s gwine to gaum dey mouths all roun’ wid jam, den dey can’t nobody notice dey’s changed.  Yes, I gwine ter do dat till I’s safe, if it’s a year.