“I want to warn you, though, Grandison,” continued the colonel impressively, “against these cussed abolitionists, who try to entice servants from their comfortable homes and their indulgent masters, from the blue skies, the green fields, and the warm sunlight of their southern home, and send them away off yonder to Canada, a dreary country, where the woods are full of wildcats and wolves and bears, where the snow lies up to the eaves of the houses for six months of the year, and the cold is so severe that it freezes your breath and curdles your blood; and where, when runaway niggers get sick and can’t work, they are turned out to starve and die, unloved and uncared for.  I reckon, Grandison, that you have too much sense to permit yourself to be led astray by any such foolish and wicked people.”

“‘Deed, suh, I would n’ low none er dem cussed, low-down abolitioners ter come nigh me, suh.  I ’d—­I ’d—­would I be ’lowed ter hit ’em, suh?”

“Certainly, Grandison,” replied the colonel, chuckling, “hit ’em as hard as you can.  I reckon they ’d rather like it.  Begad, I believe they would!  It would serve ’em right to be hit by a nigger!”

“Er ef I did n’t hit ’em, suh,” continued Grandison reflectively, “I ’d tell Mars Dick, en he ’d fix ’em.  He ’d smash de face off’n ’em, suh, I jes’ knows he would.”

“Oh yes, Grandison, your young master will protect you.  You need fear no harm while he is near.”

“Dey won’t try ter steal me, will dey, marster?” asked the negro, with sudden alarm.

“I don’t know, Grandison,” replied the colonel, lighting a fresh cigar.  “They ’re a desperate set of lunatics, and there ’s no telling what they may resort to.  But if you stick close to your young master, and remember always that he is your best friend, and understands your real needs, and has your true interests at heart, and if you will be careful to avoid strangers who try to talk to you, you ’ll stand a fair chance of getting back to your home and your friends.  And if you please your master Dick, he ’ll buy you a present, and a string of beads for Betty to wear when you and she get married in the fall.”

“Thanky, marster, thanky, suh,” replied Grandison, oozing gratitude at every pore; “you is a good marster, to be sho’, suh; yas, ’deed you is.  You kin jes’ bet me and Mars Dick gwine git ‘long jes’ lack I wuz own boy ter Mars Dick.  En it won’t be my fault ef he don’ want me fer his boy all de time, w’en we come back home ag’in.”

“All right, Grandison, you may go now.  You need n’t work any more to-day, and here ’s a piece of tobacco for you off my own plug.”

“Thanky, marster, thanky, marster!  You is de bes’ marster any nigger ever had in dis worl’.”  And Grandison bowed and scraped and disappeared round the corner, his jaws closing around a large section of the colonel’s best tobacco.

“You may take Grandison,” said the colonel to his son.  “I allow he ’s abolitionist-proof.”