you out ter-night, honey?" asked Delphy suddenly,
turning her eyes upon Eugenia as she drew a fresh handful of wool from
between the covers of the quilt.

"I ran away," replied the child gravely. "I saw Bernard with his hare
trap, and Bernard shan't do nothin' that I can't do."

"Yes, I shall," rejoined Bernard without looking up from his trap. "You
can't wear breeches."

"I like to know why I can't," demanded Eugenia. "I put on a pair of your
old ones and they fit me just as well as they do you--only Aunt Chris
made me get out of them."

"Sakes er live!" exclaimed Aunt Verbeny, awaking from her doze.

Uncle Ish stared dreamily into the flames. "Ole Miss wuz in her grave,
she wuz," he muttered, while Delphy looked at him and shook her head
mysteriously.

Then, as Nicholas entered, they made a place for him upon the
hearthstones, treating him with the forbearing tolerance with which the
well-born negro regards the low-born white man.

"Pa wants you all to help him in peanut-picking to-morrow," said
Nicholas, addressing the group indiscriminately. "He's late at it this
year, but he's been laid up with rheumatism."

"Dar ain' nuttin' ez goes on two foot er fo' ez won' len' er han' at a
pickin'," remarked Uncle Ish as the boy sat down. "Dar ain' nuttin' in
de shape, er man er crow ez won't he'p demse'ves w'en dey's lyin' roun'
loose, nuther."

"Dar's gwine ter be er killin' fros' fo' mawnin'," said Moses, his teeth
chattering from the draught let in by the opening door. "Hit kilt all
Miss Chris' hop vines las' year, en it'll kill all ez ain't under kiver
ter-night. Hit seems ter sort er lay holt er yo' chist en clean grip
hit."

"You ain' never had no chist, nohow," remarked Delphy disdainfully. "Hit
don't take mo'n er spit er fros' ter freeze thoo you. You de coldest
innered somebody I ever lay eyes on. Dar mought ez well be er fence rail
er roun' on er winter night fer all de wa'mth ez is in yo' bones."

"Dat's so," admitted Moses shamefacedly. "Dat's so. Dese yer nights,
when de fire is all gone, is moughty near ter freezin' me out er house
en home. I ain' never seed ne'r quilt ez wuz made fur er hull fambly
yit. Wid me ter pull en Betsey ter pull en de chillun ter pull, whar de
quilt?"

"Dar ain' no blankets dese days," said Uncle Ish sadly. "Dey ain' got
mo'n er seasonin' er wool in dese yer sto' stuff. Dey wa'nt dat ar way
in ole times, sis Verbeny. Bless yo' soul, sis Verbeny, dey wan't dat ar
way."