This announcement changed the current of Mrs. Crane’s ideas.  The daughters were not rough, if the father was, so she decided to take them, and for the very moderate sum of seven dollars per week, promised to give them all the privileges of her house.  The first day of June was fixed on for them to leave home and at sunrise Mr. Middleton’s carriage stood at the door, waiting for the young ladies to make their appearance.  Julia had long been ready and was waiting impatiently for Fanny, who was bidding the servants an affectionate good-bye.  Each one had received from her some little token of love, and now they all stood in one corner of the yard, to look at their darling as long as possible.

“Lor’ bless her,” said one; “Kentuck hain’t many like her, nor never will have.”

“No, nor Frankfort nuther,” said a second.  While a third added, “No, and I reckon heaven hadn’t nuther!”

To which a fourth responded, “Amen.”

Here old Aunt Katy, who had nursed Mr. Middieton and his children after him, hobbled up to Fanny, and laying her hard, shriveled black hand on her young mistress’ bright locks, said, “The Lord who makes the wind blow easy like on the sheared lamb, take keer of my sweet child and bring her back agin to poor old Aunt Katy, who’ll be all dark and lonesome, when Sunshine’s done gone.”

This was regarded as a wonderful speech by the negroes, and as none of them could hope to equal it, they contented themselves by lustily blowing their trombones and wiping the same on their shirt sleeves, or the corner of their aprons.  At last the good-byes were all said, Julia merely noticed the blacks with a slight nod, and then sprang nimbly into the carriage, which disappeared from view just as the negroes struck up in a loud, clear and not unmusical tone: 

          “Oh, it’s lonesome now on the old plantation,
          It’s lonesome now on the old plantation,
          It’s lonesome now on the old plantation,
          Case Sunshine’s gone away.”

“Stop your yelp, can’t you?” said Mr. Middleton, but his voice indicated that he would not be very much displeased even if they did not obey, so they tuned their pipes still louder, and this time the six dogs joined in the chorus, with a long and mournful howl.

“Thar, that’ll do,” said Mr. Middleton, “now to your work, quick; and mind the one that works best this week shall go Saturday and carry Miss Crane some strawberries!”

The negroes needed no other incentive to work than the prospect before them of going to see Fanny.  Never had Mr. Middleton had so much accomplished in one week.  When Friday night came, it was hard telling which was the favored one.  At last it was settled that Ike should go to Frankfort, and the rest should have a sort of holiday.  Ike was a sprightly negro boy of seventeen, and almost idolized his young mistress Fanny.  Long before “sun up” (a favorite expression in Kentucky for sunrise), he had filled his basket with strawberries, and just as the first rays of sunlight streaked the eastern hills, he started on his mission, laden with numerous messages of love for “sweet Miss Fanny,” and a big cranberry pie from Aunt Judy, who was “sartin the baby wanted some of old Judy’s jimcracks by this time.”