Peggy gun
'im ter rub on 'is eyes. De nigger wuz layin' in a co'nder, 'sleep, en
Solomon des slip' up ter 'im, en hilt dat sweet'n' 'tater 'fo' de
nigger's nose, en he des nach'ly retch' up wid his han', en tuk de
'tater en eat it in his sleep, widout knowin' it. Wen Solomon seed he 'd
done eat de 'tater, he went back en tol' Aun' Peggy, en den went home
ter his cabin ter sleep, 'way 'long 'bout two o'clock in de mawnin'.

"De nex' day wuz Sunday, en so de niggers had a little time ter
deyse'ves. Solomon wuz kinder 'sturb' in his min' thinkin' 'bout his
junesey w'at 'uz gone away, en wond'rin' w'at Aun' Peggy had ter do wid
dat noo nigger; en he had sa'ntered up in de woods so 's ter be by
hisse'f a little, en at de same time ter look atter a rabbit-trap he'd
sot down in de aidge er de swamp, w'en who sh'd he see stan'in' unner a
tree but a w'ite man.

"Solomon did n' knowed de w'ite man at fus', 'tel de w'ite man spoke up
ter 'im.

"'Is dat you, Solomon?' sezee.

"Den Solomon reco'nized de voice.

"'Fer de Lawd's sake, Mars Jeems! is dat you?'

"'Yas, Solomon,' sez his marster, 'dis is me, er w'at's lef er me.'

"It wa'n't no wonder Solomon had n' knowed Mars Jeems at fus', fer he
wuz dress' lack a po' w'ite man, en wuz barefooted, en look' monst'us
pale en peaked, ez ef he'd des come th'oo a ha'd spell er sickness.

"'You er lookin' kinder po'ly, Mars Jeems,' sez Solomon. 'Is you be'n
sick, suh?'

"'No, Solomon,' sez Mars Jeems, shakin' his head, en speakin' sorter
slow en sad, 'I ain' be'n sick, but I's had a monst'us bad dream,--fac',
a reg'lar, nach'ul nightmare. But tell me how things has be'n gwine on
up ter de plantation sence I be'n gone, Solomon.'

"So Solomon up en tol' 'im 'bout de craps, en 'bout de hosses en de
mules, en 'bout de cows en de hawgs. En w'en he 'mence' ter tell 'bout
de noo nigger, Mars Jeems prick' up 'is yeahs en listen', en eve'y now
en den he 'd say, 'Uh huh! uh huh!' en nod 'is head. En bimeby, w'en
he'd ax' Solomon some mo' queshtuns, he sez, sezee:--

"'Now, Solomon, I doan want you ter say a wo'd ter nobody 'bout meetin'
me heah, but I wants you ter slip up ter de house, en fetch me some
clo's en some shoes,--I fergot ter tell you dat a man rob' me back
yander on de road en swap' clo's wid me widout axin' me whuther er
no,--but you neenter say nuffin 'bout dat, nuther. You go en fetch me
some clo's heah, so nobody won't see you, en keep yo' mouf shet, en I
'll gib you a