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NEGRO LIFE IN AMERICA. 369

set out, on whose arrangements our former friend, old Chloe, was
presiding.

Arrayed in a new calico dress, with clean, white apron, and
high, well-starched turban, her black polished face glowing with
satisfaction, she lingered with needless punctiliousness around
the arrangements of the table, merely as an excuse for talking a
little to her mistress.

«« Laws, now! won't it look natural to him?” said she. “ Thar—
I set his plate just whar he likesit—round by the fire. Mas’r
George allers wants de warm seat. Oh, go away! Why didn’t
Sally get out de best tea-pot—de little new one Mas'r George got
for missis, Christmas? I'll have it out! And missis has heard
from Mas’r George ?” she said inquiringly.

“Yes, Chloe; but only a line, just to say he would be home
to-night, if he could—that’s all.”

« Didn’t say nothin’ "bout my old man, s’pose?’ said Chloe,
still fidgeting with the tea-cups. ,

“No, he didn’t. He did not speak of anything, Chloe. He
said he would tell all when he got home.”

« Jes like Mas’r George; he’s allers so ferce for tellin’ every-
thing hisself. I allers minded dat ar in Masr George. Don't
see, for my part, how white people gen’lly can bar to have to
write things much as they do—writin’ ’s such slow, oneasy kind o’
work.”

Mrs. Shelby smiled.

“T’m a thinkin’ my old man won’t know de boys and de baby.
Lor’! she’s de biggest gal, now; good she is, too, and peart,
Polly is. She’s out to the house, now, watchin’ de hoe-cake. I's
got jist de very pattern my old man liked so much a bakin’. Jist
sich as I gin him the mornin’ he was took off. Lord bless us!
how I felt dar ar morning !”

Mrs, Shelby sighed, and felt a heavy weight on her heart, at
this allusion. She had felt uneasy ever since she received her
son’s letter, lest something should prove to be hidden behind the
veil of silence which he had drawn.

“‘ Missis has got dem bills?” said Chloe anxiously.

“ Yes, Chloe.”

“Cause I wants to show my old man dem very bills de per-
fectioner gave me. ‘And,’ says he, ‘ Chloe, I wish you'd stay
longer.’ ‘Thank you, mas’r,’ says I, ‘1 would, only my old man’s
coming home, and missis, she can’t do without me no longer.’
There’s jest what I telled him. Berry nice man, dat, Mas’r Jones
was.”

Chloe had pertinaciously insisted that the very bills in which -
her wages had been paid should be preserved to show to her hus-
band, in memorial of her capability; and Mrs. Shelby had readily
consented to humour her in the request.

“He won't know Polly—my old man won't. Laws, it’s five

24. QB