And Mammy left the room in high dudgeon, but presently came back, and said Dumps was to go to her mother at once.

“What is the matter with my little daughter?” asked her father, as she came slowly down-stairs, crying bitterly, and met him in the hall.

“Mammy’s ben er sa-a-as-sin me,” sobbed Dumps; “an’ she sa-aid de Lord wuz goin’ ter sen’ an angel fur ter git my ha-air, an’ she won’t lem’me go-o-o ter see de spec-ec-ec-erlaters.”

“Well, come in mamma’s room,” said her father, “and we’ll talk it all over.”

And the upshot of the matter was that Major Waldron said he would himself take the children to the speculator’s camp; and accordingly, as soon as dinner was over, they all started off in high glee—­the three little girls and the three little negroes—­leaving Mammy standing at the top of the stairs, muttering to herself, “Er catchin’ uv de measles an’ de hookin’-coffs.”

The speculator’s camp was situated on the bank of the creek, and a very bright scene it presented as Major Waldron and his party came up to it.  At a little distance from the main encampment was the speculator’s tent, and the tents for the negroes were dotted here and there among the trees.  Some of the women were washing at the creek, others were cooking, and some were sitting in front of their tents sewing; numbers of little negroes were playing about, and, altogether, the “speculator’s camp” was not the horrible thing that one might suppose.

The speculator, who was a jolly-looking man weighing over two hundred pounds, came forward to meet Major Waldron and show him over the encampment.

The negroes were well clothed, well fed, and the great majority of them looked exceedingly happy.

They came across one group of boys and girls dancing and singing.  An old man, in another group, had collected a number of eager listeners around him, and was recounting some marvellous tale; but occasionally there would be a sad face and a tearful eye, and Mr. Waldron sighed as he passed these, knowing that they were probably grieving over the home and friends they had left.

As they came to one of the tents, the speculator said, “There is a sick yellow woman in there, that I bought in Maryland.  She had to be sold in the settlement of an estate, and she has fretted herself almost to death; she is in such bad health now that I doubt if anybody will buy her, though she has a very likely little boy about two years old.”

Mr. Waldron expressed a wish to see the woman, and they went in.

Lying on a very comfortable bed was a woman nearly white; her eyes were deep-sunken in her head, and she was painfully thin.  Mr. Waldron took her hand in his, and looked into her sad eyes.

“Do you feel much pain?” he asked, tenderly.

“Yes, sir,” answered the woman, “I suffer a great deal; and I am so unhappy, sir, about my baby; I can’t live long, and what will become of him?  If I only had a home, where I could make friends for him before I die, where I could beg and entreat the people to be kind to him and take care of him!  ’Tis that keeps me sick, sir.”