“‘Kin I kyar little Mose wid me, marster?’ ax’ Sis’ Becky.

“‘N-o,’ sez de kunnel, ez ef he wuz studyin’ whuther ter let her take ‘im er no;’ I reckon you better let Aun’ Nancy look atter yo’ baby fer de day er two you’ll be gone, en she’ll see dat he gits ernuff ter eat ‘tel you gits back.’

“So Sis’ Becky hug’ en kiss’ little Mose, en tol’ ’im ter be a good little pickaninny, en take keer er hisse’f, en not fergit his mammy w’iles she wuz gone.  En little Mose put his arms roun’ his mammy en lafft en crowed des lack it wuz monst’us fine fun fer his mammy ter go ’way en leabe ’im.

“Well, dis yer hoss trader sta’ted out wid Becky, en bimeby, atter dey ’d gone down de Lumbe’ton Road fer a few miles er so, dis man tu’nt roun’ in a diffe’nt d’rection, en kep’ goin’ dat erway, ‘tel bimeby Sis’ Becky up ‘n ax’ ‘im ef he wuz gwine’ ter Robeson County by a noo road.

“‘No, nigger,’ sezee, ‘I ain’ gwine ter Robeson County at all.  I’s gwine ter Bladen County, whar my plantation is, en whar I raises all my hosses.’

“‘But how is I gwine ter git ter Mis’ Laura’s plantation down in Robeson County?’ sez Becky, wid her hea’t in her mouf, fer she ‘mence’ ter git skeered all er a sudden.

“‘You ain’ gwine ter git dere at all,’ sez de man.  ’You b’longs ter me now, fer I done traded my bes’ race hoss fer you, wid yo’ ole marster.  Ef you is a good gal, I’ll treat you right, en ef you doan behabe yo’se’f,—­w’y, w’at e’se happens’ll be yo’ own fault.’

“Co’se Sis’ Becky cried en went on ’bout her pickaninny, but co’se it did n’ do no good, en bimeby dey got down ter dis yer man’s place, en he put Sis’ Becky ter wuk, en fergot all ‘bout her habin’ a pickaninny.

“Meanw’iles, w’en ebenin’ come, de day Sis’ Becky wuz tuk ’way, little Mose mence’ ter git res’less, en bimeby, w’en his mammy did n’ come, he sta’ted ter cry fer ‘er.  Aun’ Nancy fed ’im en rocked ’im en rocked ’im, en fin’lly he des cried en cried ’tel he cried hisse’f ter sleep.

“De nex’ day he did n’ ’pear ter be as peart ez yushal, en w’en night come he fretted en went on wuss ‘n he did de night befo’.  De nex’ day his little eyes ‘mence’ ter lose dey shine, en he would n’ eat nuffin, en he ‘mence’ ter look so peaked dat Aun’ Nancy tuk ’n kyared ’im up ter de big house, en showed ’im ter her ole missis, en her ole missis gun her some med’cine fer ’im, en ‘lowed ef he did n’ git no better she sh’d fetch ’im up ter de big house ag’in, en dey ’d hab a doctor, en nuss little Mose up dere.  Fer Aun’ Nancy’s ole missis ’lowed he wuz a lackly little nigger en wu’th raisin’.

“But Aun’ Nancy had l’arn’ ter lack little Mose, en she did n’ wanter hab ‘im tuk up ter de big house.  En so w’en he did n’ git no better, she gethered a mess er green peas, and tuk de peas en de baby, en went ter see ole Aun’ Peggy, de cunjuh ’oman down by de Wim’l’ton Road.  She gun Aun’ Peggy de mess er peas, en tol’ her all ‘bout Sis’ Becky en little Mose.