“So he waited two er th’ee days, an’ sho’ nuff long come Dasdy one mornin,’ comin’ over to Mars Dugal’s fer ter fetch some things fer her missis.  She wuz lookin’ kinder down in de mouf, fer she thought a heap er Ben, an’ wuz monst’us sorry ter lose ’im, w’iles at de same time she wuz glad he wuz free, fer she ’lowed he’d done got ter de Norf long befo.’  An’ she wuz studyin’ ‘bout Ben, w’at a fine-lookin’ man he wuz, an’ wond’rin’ ef she’d eber see ‘im any mo.’

“W’en Ben seed her comin’ he waited ’til she got close by, an’ den he stepped out ‘n de woods an’ come face ter face wid her.  She didn’ ’pear to know who he wuz, an’ seem kinder skeered.

“‘Hoddy, Dasdy honey,’ he said.

“‘Huh!’ she said, ’’pears ter me you’er mighty fermilyer on sho’t acquaintance.’

“‘Sho’t acquaintance.’  Why, doan’ yer know me, Dasdy?’

“‘No.  I doan know yer f’om a skeercrow.  I never seed yer befo’ in my life, an’ nebber wants ter see yer ag’in.  Whar did yer com f’om anyhow?  Whose nigger is yer?  Er is yer some low-down free nigger dat doan b’long ter nobody an’ doan own nobody?’

“‘W’at fer you talk ter me like dat, honey?  I’s Ben, yo’ Ben.  Why doan you know yo’ own man?’

“He put out his ahms fer ter draw her ter ‘im, but she jes’ gib one yell, an’ stahted ter run.  Ben wuz so ‘stonish’ he didn’ know w’at ter do, an’ he stood dere in de road ’til he heared somebody e’se comin’, w’en he dahted in de woods ag’in.

“Po’ Ben wuz so ‘sturbed in his min’ dat he couldn’ hahdly eat any clay dat day.  He couldn’ make out w’at wuz de matter wid Dasdy but he ’lowed maybe she’d heared he wuz dead er sump’n,’ an’ thought he wuz a ha’nt, an’ dat wuz w’y she had run away.  So he watch’ by de side er de road, an’ nex’ mornin’ who should come erlong but little Pete, wid a reed over his shoulder, an’ a go’d-full er bait, gwine fishin’ in de crick.

“Ben called ’im; ‘Pete, O Pete! Little Pete.’

“Little Pete cocked up his ears an’ listened.  ’Peared lak he’d heared dat voice befo.’  He stahted fer de woods fer ter see who it wuz callin’ ‘im, but befo’ he got dere Ben stepped out an’ retched fer im.

“‘Come heah, honey, an’ see yo’ daddy, who ain’ seenyer fer so long.’

“But little Pete tuk one look at ‘im, an’ den ’menceter holler an squeal an’ kick an’ bite an’ scratch.  Ben wuz so ‘stonish’ dat he couldn’ hoi’ de boy, who slipped out’n his ban’s an run to’ds de house ez fas’ ez his legs would tote ’im.

“Po’ Ben kep’ gittin’ wus an’ wus mixed up.  He couldn’ make out fer de life er ‘im w’at could be de matter.  Nobody didn’ ’pear ter wanter own ‘im.  He felt so cas’ down dat he didn’ notice a nigger man comin’ long de road ’til he got right close up on ‘im, an’ didn’ heah dis man w’en he said ‘Hoddy’ ter ’im.

“‘Wat’s de matter wid yer?’ said de yuther man w’en Ben didn’ ‘spon’.  ’Wat jedge er member er de legislater er hotel-keeper does you b’long ter dat you can’t speak ter a man w’en he says hoddy ter yer?’