diplomacy on my part to induce him to vouchsafe an
explanation. The prospect of a long, dull afternoon was not alluring,
and I was glad to have the monotony of Sabbath quiet relieved by a
plantation legend.

"W'en I wuz a young man," began Julius, when I had finally prevailed
upon him to tell us the story, "dat club-footed nigger--his name is
Primus--use' ter b'long ter ole Mars Jim McGee ober on de Lumbe'ton
plank-road. I use' ter go ober dere ter see a 'oman w'at libbed on de
plantation; dat 's how I come ter know all erbout it. Dis yer Primus wuz
de livelies' han' on de place, alluz a-dancin', en drinkin', en runnin'
roun', en singin', en pickin' de banjo; 'cep'n' once in a w'ile, w'en he
'd 'low he wa'n't treated right 'bout sump'n ernudder, he'd git so sulky
en stubborn dat de w'ite folks could n' ha'dly do nuffin wid 'im.

"It wuz 'gin' de rules fer any er de han's ter go 'way fum de
plantation at night; but Primus did n' min' de rules, en went w'en he
felt lack it; en de w'ite folks purten' lack dey did n' know it, fer
Primus was dange'ous w'en he got in dem stubborn spells, en dey 'd
ruther not fool wid 'im.

"One night in de spring er de year, Primus slip' off fum de plantation,
en went down on de Wim'l'ton Road ter a dance gun by some er de free
niggers down dere. Dey wuz a fiddle, en a banjo, en a jug gwine roun' on
de outside, en Primus sung en dance' 'tel 'long 'bout two o'clock in de
mawnin', w'en he start' fer home. Ez he come erlong back, he tuk a
nigh-cut 'cross de cottonfiel's en 'long by de aidge er de Min'al Spring
Swamp, so ez ter git shet er de patteroles w'at rid up en down de big
road fer ter keep de darkies fum runnin' roun' nights. Primus was
sa'nt'rin' 'long, studyin' 'bout de good time he 'd had wid de gals,
w'en, ez he wuz gwine by a fence co'nder, w'at sh'd he heah but sump'n
grunt. He stopped a minute ter listen, en he heared sump'n grunt ag'in.
Den he went ober ter de fence whar he heard de fuss, en dere, layin' in
de fence co'nder, on a pile er pine straw, he seed a fine, fat shote.

"Primus look' ha'd at de shote, en den sta'ted home. But somehow er
'nudder he could n' git away fum dat shote; w'en he tuk one step
for'ards wid one foot, de yuther foot 'peared ter take two steps
back'ards, en so he kep' nachly gittin' closeter en closeter ter de
shote. It was de beatin'es' thing! De shote des 'peared ter cha'm
Primus, en fus' thing you know Primus foun' hisse'f 'way up de road wid
de