himself. But at present the dust
of which she was made was what she could best comprehend. So, fortified
by her inward faith, and feeling herself fast friends with the ancient
earth, she continued to ring her silver bells and spin her bare
twinkling feet with contented disregard of those, few of whom in their
unseemly worship had the faintest idea of what it was that ailed them.

Although known by various titles on the plantation, objurgatory among
the hands, facetious among the heads, such as Dancing Devil, Spinning
Jenny, Tarantella, Herodias's Daughter,--which last, simplifying itself
into Salome, became in its diminutives the most prevalent,--the creature
had a name of her own, the softest of syllables. Black and uncouth as
she was, a word, one of those the whitest and most beautiful, named her;
and since they tell us that every appellation has its significance for
the wearer, we must suppose that somewhere in her soul that white and
blossoming thing was to be found which answered to the name of Flor.

She possessed a kind of freehold in the cabin of an old negress yclept
Zoe; but she seldom claimed it, for Zoe was outspoken; she preferred,
instead, to lie down by night on a mat in Miss Emma's room, in a corner
of the staircase, on the hall-floor, oftenest fallen wherever sleep
happened to overtake her;--having so many places in which to lay her
head was very like having none at all. She was at the bidding of every
one, but seldom received a heavy blow; as for a round of angry words,
she liked nothing better. She fell heir to much flimsy finery, as a
matter of course, and to many a tidbit, cake or sweetmeat; she made
herself gaudy as a butterfly with the one, and never went into a corner
with the other. Of late, however, the finery and the delicates had
become more uncommon things: Miss Emma wore a homespun gingham, her
muslins, and Miss Agatha's, draped the windows,--for curtains and
carpets had all gone to camp; bacon had ceased to be given out to the
hands, who lived now on corn-meal and yams; the people at the house were
scarcely better off,--for, though, as no army had passed that way, the
chickens still peopled the place, they were reserved for special
occasions, and it was only at rare intervals that one indulged at table
in the luxury of a fowl. This was no serious regret to Flor on her own
account: the less viands, the less dishes, she could oftener pause in
the act of wiping a plate and perform an original