“We are sorry about it now, Uncle Bob,” said Diddie “but what would you ’vize us to do?” “Well, my invice is dis,” said Uncle Bob, “fur ter go ter yer pa, an’ tell him de truff; state all de konkumstances des like dey happen; don’t lebe out none er de facks; tell him you’re sorry yer ‘haved so onstreperous, an’ ax him fur ter furgib yer; an’ ef he do, wy dat’s all right; an’ den ef he don’t, wy yer mus’ ’bide by de kinsequonces.  But fuss, do, fo’ yer axes fur furgibness, yer mus’ turn yer min’s ter repintunce.  Now I ax you chil’en dis, Is—­you—­sorry—­dat—­you—­runned—­off? an’—­is—­you—­’pentin’—­uv—­wadin’—­in—­de—­ditch?”

Uncle Bob spoke very slowly and solemnly, and in a deep tone; and Diddie, feeling very much as if she had been guilty of murder, replied,

“Yes, I am truly sorry, Uncle Bob.”

Dumps and Tot and the three little darkies gravely nodded their heads in assent.

“Den jes go an’ tell yer pa so,” said the old man.  “An’, anyway, yer’ll hatter be gwine, caze hit’s gittin’ dark.”

The little folks walked off slowly towards the house, and presently Dumps said,

“Diddie, I don’t b’lieve I’m rael sorry we runned off, an’ I don’t right ’pent ‘bout wadin’ in the ditch, cause we had er mighty heap er fun; an’ yer reckon ef I’m jes sorter sorry, an’ jes toler’ble ’pent, that’ll do?”

“I don’t know about that,” said Diddie; “but I’m right sorry, and I’ll tell papa for all of us.”

[Illustration:  “WELL, MY INVICE IS DIS.”]

The children went at once to the library, where Major Waldron was found reading.

“Papa,” said Diddie, “we’ve ben very bad, an’ we’ve come ter tell yer ’bout it.”

“An’ the Jay Bird, he tol’ the deb’l,” put in Dumps, “an’ ’twan’t none er his business.”

“Hush up, Dumps,” said Diddie, “till I tell papa ’bout it.  I wouldn’t say my lesson, papa, an’ Miss Carrie locked me up, an’ the chil’en brought me my dinner.”

“’Tuz me,” chimed in Tot.  “I b’ing ‘er de besses dinner—­take an’ jam an’ pud’n in de p’ate.  Aunt Mawy durn turn me.”

“Hush, Tot,” said Diddie, “till I get through.  An’ then, papa, I climbed out the winder on the step-ladder, an’ I—­”

“Dilsey an’ Chris got the ladder,” put in Dumps.

“HUSH UP, Dumps!” said Diddie; “you’re all time ‘ruptin’ me.”

“I reckon I done jes bad ez you,” retorted Dumps, “an’ I got jes much right ter tell ‘boutn it.  You think nobody can’t be bad but yerse’f.’

“Well, then, you can tell it all,” said Diddie, with dignity.  “Papa, Dumps will tell you.”

And Dumps, nothing daunted, continued: