plantation.  En w’en she seed Jeff jump up en run to’ds dat ‘oman, en th’ow his a’ms roun’ her neck, po’ Chloe did n’ stop ter see no mo’, but des tu’nt roun’ en run up ter de house, en rush’ up on de piazzer, en up en tol’ Mars’ Dugal’ en ole mis’ all ’bout de baby doll, en all ‘bout Jeff gittin’ de goopher fum Aun’ Peggy, en ’bout w’at de goopher had done ter Hannibal.

“Mars’ Dugal’ wuz monst’us mad.  He did n’ let on at fus’ lack he b’liebed Chloe, but w’en she tuk en showed ‘im whar ter fin’ de baby doll, Mars’ Dugal’ tu’nt w’ite ez chalk.

“‘Wat debil’s wuk is dis?’ sezee.  ‘No wonder de po’ nigger’s feet eetched.  Sump’n got ter be done ter l’arn dat ole witch ter keep her han’s off’n my niggers.  En ez fer dis yer Jeff, I’m gwine ter do des w’at I promus’, so de darkies on dis plantation’ll know I means w’at I sez.’

“Fer Mars’ Dugal’ had warned de han’s befo’ ‘bout foolin’ wid cunju’ation; fac’, he had los’ one er two niggers his-se’f fum dey bein’ goophered, en he would ‘a’ had ole Aun’ Peggy whip’ long ago, on’y Aun’ Peggy wuz a free ’oman, en he wuz ’feard she ’d cunjuh him.  En w’iles Mars’ Dugal’ say he did n’ b’liebe in cunj’in’ en sich, he ’peared ter ‘low it wuz bes’ ter be on de safe side, en let Aun’ Peggy alone.

“So Mars’ Dugal’ done des ez he say.  Ef ole mis’ had ple’d fer Jeff, he mought ‘a’ kep’ ‘im.  But ole mis’ had n’ got ober losin’ dem bulbs yit, en she neber said a wo’d.  Mars’ Dugal’ tuk Jeff ter town nex’ day en’ sol’ ’im ter a spekilater, who sta’ted down de ribber wid ‘im nex’ mawnin’ on a steamboat, fer ter take ’im ter Alabama.

“Now, w’en Chloe tol’ ole Mars’ Dugal’ ’bout dis yer baby doll en dis udder goopher, she had n’ ha’dly ‘lowed Mars’ Dugal’ would sell Jeff down Souf.  Howsomeber, she wuz so mad wid Jeff dat she ’suaded herse’f she did n’ keer; en so she hilt her head up en went roun’ lookin’ lack she wuz rale glad ‘bout it.  But one day she wuz walkin’ down de road, w’en who sh’d come ’long but dis yer Hannibal.

“W’en Hannibal seed ‘er, he bus’ out laffin’ fittin’ fer ter kill:  ’Yah, yah, yah! ho, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha!  Oh, hol’ me, honey, hol’ me, er I’ll laf myse’f ter def.  I ain’ nebber laf’ so much sence I be’n bawn.’

“‘Wat you laffin’ at, Hot-Foot?’

“‘Yah, yah, yah!  Wat I laffin’ at?  W’y, I’s laffin’ at myse’f, tooby sho’,—­laffin’ ter think w’at a fine ‘oman I made.’

“Chloe tu’nt pale, en her hea’t come up in her mouf.

“‘Wat you mean, nigger?’ sez she, ketchin’ holt er a bush by de road fer ter stiddy herse’f.  ‘Wat you mean by de kin’ er ‘oman you made?’

“‘Wat do I mean?  I means dat I got squared up wid you fer treatin’ me de way you done, en I got eben wid dat yaller nigger Jeff fer cuttin’ me out.  Now, he’s gwine ter know w’at it is ter eat co’n bread en merlasses once mo’, en wuk fum daylight ter da’k, en ter hab a oberseah dribin’ ‘im fum one day’s een’ ter de udder.  I means