“No, but I’se hearn tell ob dem, and I thinks dey mus’ be mighty funny.  An’ I know it’s orful funny to see how straight Jinny’s face looks wen she’s almos’ ready to bust, while ole Miss is frettin’ and fumin’ ’bout dem Yankees an’ de war.  But, somehow, Robby, I ralely b’lieves dat we cullud folks is mixed up in dis fight.  I seed it all in a vision.  An’ soon as dey fired on dat fort, Uncle Dan’el says to me:  ’Linda, we’s gwine to git our freedom.’  An’ I says:  ‘Wat makes you think so?” An’ he says:  ‘Dey’ve fired on Fort Sumter, an’ de Norf is boun’ to whip.’”

“I hope so,” said Robert.  “I think that we have a heap of friends up there.”

“Well, I’m jis’ gwine to keep on prayin’ an’ b’lievin’.”

Just then the bell rang, and Robert, answering, found Mrs. Johnson suffering from a severe headache, which he thought was occasioned by her worrying over the late defeat of the Confederates.  She sent him on an errand, which he executed with his usual dispatch, and returned to some work which he had to do in the kitchen.  Robert was quite a favorite with Aunt Linda, and they often had confidential chats together.

“Bobby,” she said, when he returned, “I thinks we ort ter hab a prayer-meetin’ putty soon.”

“I am in for that.  Where will you have it?”

“Lem me see.  Las’ Sunday we had it in Gibson’s woods; Sunday ‘fore las’, in de old cypress swamp; an’ nex’ Sunday we’el hab one in McCullough’s woods.  Las’ Sunday we had a good time.  I war jis’ chock full an’ runnin’ ober.  Aunt Milly’s daughter’s bin monin all summer, an’ she’s jis’ come throo.  We had a powerful time.  Eberythin’ on dat groun’ was jis’ alive.  I tell yer, dere was a shout in de camp.”

“Well, you had better look out, and not shout too much, and pray and sing too loud, because, ’fore you know, the patrollers will be on your track and break up your meetin’ in a mighty big hurry, before you can say ‘Jack Robinson.’”

“Oh, we looks out for dat.  We’s got a nice big pot, dat got cracked las’ winter, but it will hole a lot o’ water, an’ we puts it whar we can tell it eberything.  We has our own good times.  An’ I want you to come Sunday night an’ tell all ’bout the good eggs, fish, and butter.  Mark my words, Bobby, we’s all gwine to git free.  I seed it all in a vision, as plain as de nose on yer face.”

“Well, I hope your vision will come out all right, and that the eggs will keep and the butter be fresh till we have our next meetin’.”

“Now, Bob, you sen’ word to Uncle Dan’el, Tom Anderson, an’ de rest ob dem, to come to McCullough’s woods nex’ Sunday night.  I want to hab a sin-killin’ an’ debil-dribin’ time.  But, boy, you’d better git out er yere.  Ole Miss’ll be down on yer like a scratch cat.”

Although the slaves were denied unrestricted travel, and the holding of meetings without the surveillance of a white man, yet they contrived to meet by stealth and hold gatherings where they could mingle their prayers and tears, and lay plans for escaping to the Union army.  Outwitting the vigilance of the patrollers and home guards, they established these meetings miles apart, extending into several States.