It was all of three miles to Mr. Smith’s plantation, and the little girls were very tired long before they got there.  Dumps, indeed, almost gave out, and once began to cry, and only stopped with Diddie’s reminding her of poor Uncle Pomp, and with Dilsey’s carrying her a little way.

At last, about two o’clock, they reached Mr. Smith’s place.  The hands had just gone out into the field after dinner, and of course their master, who was only a small planter and kept no overseer, was with them.  The children found the doors all open, and went in.

The house was a double log-cabin, with a hall between, and they entered the room on the right, which seemed to be the principal living-room.  There was a shabby old bed in one corner, with the cover all disarranged, as if its occupant had just left it.  A table, littered with unwashed dishes, stood in the middle of the floor, and one or two rude split-bottomed chairs completed the furniture.

The little girls were frightened at the unusual silence about the place, as well as the dirt and disorder, but, being very tired, they sat down to rest.

“Diddie,” asked Dumps, after a little time, “ain’t yer scared?”

“I don’t think I’m scared, Dumps,” replied Diddie; “but I’m not right comfor’ble.”

“I’m scared,” said Dumps.  “I’m jes ez fraid of Mr. Tight-fis’ Smith!”

“Dat’s hit!” said Dilsey.  “Now yer talkin’, Miss Dumps; dat’s er mean wite man, an’ he mighter git mad erlong us, an’ take us all fur his niggers.”

“But we ain’t black, Diddie an’ me,” said Dumps.

“Dat don’t make no diffunce ter him; he des soon hab wite niggers ez black uns,” remarked Dilsey, consolingly; and Dumps, being now thoroughly frightened, said,

“Well, I’m er goin’ ter put my pen’ence in de Lord.  I’m er goin’ ter pray.”

Diddie and Dilsey thought this a wise move, and, the three children kneeling down, Dumps began,

“Now, I lay me down to sleep.”

And just at this moment Mr. Smith, returning from the field, was surprised to hear a voice proceeding from the house, and, stepping lightly to the window, beheld, to his amazement, the three children on their knees, with their eyes tightly closed and their hands clasped, while Dumps was saying, with great fervor,

“If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take;
An’ this I ask for Jesus’ sake.”

“Amen!” reverently responded Diddie and Dilsey; and they all rose from their knees much comforted.

“I ain’t ’fraid uv him now,” said Dumps, “’cause I b’lieve the Lord’ll he’p us, an’ not let Mr. Tight-fis’ Smith git us.”

“I b’lieve so too,” said Diddie; and, turning to the window, she found Mr. Smith watching them.

“Are you Mr. Tight-fis’ Smith?” asked Diddie, timidly.

“I am Mr. Smith, and I have heard that I am called ‘tight-fisted’ in the neighborhood,” he replied, with a smile.