“Mammy ’ll hatter whup me, den,” said Chris (for Mammy always punished the little negroes for disobedience to their mistresses); “she’ll hatter whup me, caze I ain’t gwine ter hab nuf’n tall ter do wid dat sheep; I ain’t gwine ter meddle long ’im, hab ‘im buttin’ me in de ditch.”

“Riar, you go,” said Diddie; “he ain’t butted you yet.”

“He ain’t gwine ter, nuther,” said Riar, “caze I gwine ter stay up hyear long o’ Miss Tot, like Mammy tell me.  I ‘longs to her, an’ I gwine stay wid ‘er myse’f, an’ nuss ’er jes like Mammy say.”

It was now almost dark, and Old Billy showed no signs of weariness; his vigilance was unabated, and the children were very miserable, when they heard the welcome sound of Mammy’s voice calling “Chil’en!  O-o-o-o, chil’en!”

“Ma-a-a-m!” answered all of the little folks at once.

“Whar is yer?” called Mammy,

“On top the lumber-pile,” answered the children; and soon Mammy appeared coming through the woods.

She had missed the children at snack-time, and had been down to the quarters, and, in fact, all over the place, hunting for them.  The children were delighted to see her now, and so, indeed, seemed Old Billy, for, quitting his position at Dilsey’s head, he set out at his best speed for Mammy; and Dilsey immediately jumped to her feet, and was soon on the lumber with her companions.

“Now yer gwuf fum yer, gwuf fum yer!” said Mammy, furiously waving a cotton-stalk at Old Billy.  “Gwuf fum yer, I tell you!  I ain’t bodern’ you.  I jes come fur de chil’en, an’ yer bet not fool ’long er me, yer low-life sheep.”

But Old Billy, not caring a fig for Mammy’s dignity or importance, planted his head in her breast, and over the old lady went backwards.  At this the children, who loved Mammy dearly, set up a yell, and Mammy, still waving the cotton-stalk, attempted to rise, but Billy was ready for her, and, with a well-aimed blow, sent her back to the earth.

“Now yer stop dat,” said Mammy.  “I don’t want ter fool wid yer; I lay I’ll bus’ yer head open mun, ef I git er good lick at yer; yer better gwuf fum yer!” But Billy, being master of the situation, stood his ground, and I dare say Mammy would have been lying there yet, but fortunately Uncle Sambo and Bill, the wagoners, came along the big road, and, hearing the children’s cries, they came upon the scene of action, and, taking their whips to Old Billy, soon drove him away.

“Mammy, we won’t never run away any more,” said Diddie, as Mammy came up; “’twas Dumps’s fault, anyhow.”

“Nem min’, yer ma’s gwine whup yer,” said Mammy; “yer’d no business at dis gin-house long o’ dat sheep, an’ I won’er what you kinky-head niggers is fur, ef yer can’t keep de chil’en in de yard:  come yer ter me!” And, picking up a cotton-stalk, she gave each of the little darkies a sound whipping.

The children were more fortunate.  Mamma lectured them on the sin of running away from Mammy; but she put a piece of court-plaster on Diddie’s head, and kissed all of the dirty little faces, much to Mammy’s disgust, who grumbled a good deal because they were not punished, saying,