“‘Daddy’—­all Ole Miss’s chilluns call me daddy—­’Daddy,’ he say, ’’pears like dere’s gwineter be mighty rough times ‘roun’ yer.  De Yankees, dey er done got ter Madison en Mounticellar, en ’twon’t be many days ‘fo’ dey er down yer.  ’Tain’t likely dey’ll pester mother ner sister; but, daddy, ef de wus come ter de wus, I speck you ter take keer un um,’ sezee.

“Den I say, sez I:  ‘How long you bin knowin’ me, Mars Jeems?’ sez I.

“‘Sence I wuz a baby,’ sezee.

“‘Well, den, Mars Jeems,’ sez I, ’you know’d ’twa’nt no use fer ter ax me ter take keer Ole Miss en Miss Sally.’

“Den he tuck’n squoze my han’ en jump on de filly I bin savin’ fer ‘im, en rid off.  One time he tu’n roun’ en look like he wanter say sump’n’, but he des waf’ his han’—­so—­en gallop on.  I know’d den dat trouble wuz brewin’.  Nigger dat knows he’s gwineter git thumped kin sorter fix hisse’f, en I tuck’n fix up like de war wuz gwineter come right in at de front gate.  I tuck’n got all de cattle en hosses tergedder en driv’ um ter de fo’-mile place, en I tuck all de corn en fodder en w’eat, en put um in a crib out dar in de woods; en I bilt me a pen in de swamp, en dar I put de hogs.  Den, w’en I fix all dis, I put on my Sunday cloze en groun’ my axe.  Two whole days I groun’ dat axe.  De grinestone wuz in sight er de gate en close ter de big ’ouse, en dar I tuck my stan’.

“Bimeby one day, yer come de Yankees.  Two un um come fus, en den de whole face er de yeath swawm’d wid um.  De fus glimpse I kotch un um, I tuck my axe en march inter Ole Miss settin’-room.  She done had de sidebo’d move in dar, en I wish I may drap ef ‘twuzn’t fa’rly blazin’ wid silver—­silver cups en silver sassers, silver plates en silver dishes, silver mugs en silver pitchers.  Look like ter me dey wuz fixin’ fer a weddin’.  Dar sot Ole Miss des ez prim en ez proud ez ef she own de whole county.  Dis kinder ho’p me up, kaze I done seed Ole Miss look dat away once befo’ w’en de overseer struck me in de face wid a w’ip.  I sot down by de fier wid my axe tween my knees.  Dar we sot w’iles de Yankees ransack de place.  Miss Sally, dar, she got sorter restless, but Ole Miss didn’t skasely bat ’er eyes.  Bimeby, we hear steps on de peazzer, en yer come a couple er young fellers wid strops on der shoulders, en der sodes a draggin’ on de flo’, en der spurrers a rattlin’.  I won’t say I wuz skeer’d,” said Uncle Remus, as though endeavoring to recall something he failed to remember, “I won’t say I wuz skeer’d, kaze I wuzzent; but I wuz took’n wid a mighty funny feelin’ in de naberhood er de gizzard.  Dey wuz mighty perlite, dem young chaps wuz; but Ole Miss, she never tu’n ’er head, en Miss Sally, she look straight at de fier.  Bimeby one un um see me, en he say, sezee: 

“‘Hello, ole man, w’at you doin’ in yer?’ sezee.

“‘Well, boss,’ sez I, ‘I bin cuttin’ some wood fer Ole Miss, en I des stop fer ter worn my han’s a little,’ sez I.