“So dey fixed it dat erway, en’ Cindy went off wid ’em, she ‘spectin’ ter be back in a week er so, en’ de w’ite folks not hahdly ‘lowin’ she’d come back at all.  Skundus didn’ lack ter hab Cindy go, but he couldn’ do nuthin’.  He wuz wukkin’ off in ernudder part er de plantation w’en she went erway, en’ had ter tell her good-by de night befo’.

“Bimeby, w’en Cindy didn’ come back in two or th’ee weeks, Skundus ‘mence ter git res’less.  En’ Skundus wuz diff’ent f’um udder folks.  Mos’ folks w’en dey gits res’less can’t sleep good, but de mo’ res’lesser Skundus got, de mo! sleepier he ’peared ter git.  W’eneber he wuz’n wukkin’ ef eatin’, he’d be sleepin’.  Wen de yuther niggers ’ud be sky-larkin’ ‘roun’ nights en’ Sundays, Skundus ‘ud be soun’ asleep in his cabin.  Things kep’ on dis way fer ‘bout a mont’ atter Cindy went away, w’en one mawnin’ Skundus didn’t come ter wuk.  Dey look’ fer ’im ‘roun’ de plantation, but dey couldn’ fin’ ‘im, en’ befo’ de day wuz gone, ev’ybody wuz sho’ dat Skundus had runned erway.

“Cose dey wuz a great howdydo ‘bout it.  Nobody hadn’ nebber runned erway fum Marse Dugal’ befo’, an’ dey hadn’ b’en a runaway nigger in de neighbo’hood fer th’ee er fo’ years.  De w’ite folks wuz all wukked up, en’ dey wuz mo’ ridin’ er hosses en’ mo’ hitchin up er buggies d’n a little.  Ole Marse Dugal’ had a lot er papers printed en’ stuck up on trees ‘long de roads, en’ dey wuz sump’n put in de noospapers—­a free nigger fum down on de Wim’l’ton Road read de paper ter some er our ban’s—­tellin’ all ‘bout how high Skundus wuz, en’ w’at kine er teef he had, en’ ‘bout a skyah he had on his lef cheek, en’ how sleepy he wuz, en’ off’rin’ a reward er one hunder’ dollars fer whoeber ’ud ketch ’im.  But none of ’em eber cotch ’im.

“W’en Cindy fus’ went away she wuz kinder down in de mouf fer a day er so.  But she went to a fine new house, de folks treated her well en’ dere wuz sich good comp’ny ‘mongs’ her own people, dat she made up ‘er min’ she might’s well hab a good time fer de week er two she wuz gwine ter stay down dere.  But w’en de time roll’ on en’ she didn’ heared nothin’ ’bout gwine back, she ‘mence’ ter git kinder skeered she wuz’n nebber gwine ter see her mammy ner Skundus no mo’.  She wuz monst’us cut up ‘bout it, an’ los’ ‘er appetite en’ got so po’ en’ skinny, her mist’ess sont ’er down ter de swamp fer ter git some roots fer ter make some tea fer ’er health.  Her mist’ess sont her ’way ‘bout th’ee o’clock en’ Cindy didn’ come back till atter sundown; en’ she say she b’en lookin’ fer de roots, dat dey didn’ ‘pear ter be none er dem kin’ er roots fer a mile er so ’long de aidge er de swamp.

“Cindy ‘mence’ ter git better jes’ ez soon as she begun ter drink de root-tea.  It wuz a monst’us good med’cine, leas’ways in her case.  It done Cindy so much good dat her mist’ess ’eluded she’d take it herse’f en’ gib it ter de chil’en.  De fus’ day Cindy went atter de roots dey wuz some lef’ ober, en’ her mist’ess tol’ ’er fer ter use dat fer de nex’ day.  Cindy done so, but she tol’ ‘er mist’ess hit didn’ hab no strenk en’ didn’ do ’er no good.  So ev’y day atter dat Marse Wash’n’ton’s wife ‘ud sen’ Cindy down by de aidge er de swamp fer ter git fresh roots.