irls traveling
alone!"

"It is because they are Americans," said Mr. Huntsworth. "You should
be proud of such a country. I am glad that you have fallen into such
pleasant hands. I will tell your father if I see him before you do. Will
you stay in New Orleans long?"

"I don't know. I will have to hear from my father about that. But how easy
it has been to get there!"

"The most difficult part is to come," said the old gentleman gravely.
"Once the Vicksburg batteries are passed you will be safe. I do not think
that this boat will try to make the run. She is hardly in fighting shape.
Of course you will be transferred to a gun boat. Well, well, I hope that
you will get through all right and that we will soon meet again. Good-bye,
little girl."

"Good-bye, sir," and Jeanne shook hands with him cordially. "Thank you so
much for all your kindness. I hope that I will see you again. Good-bye."

Another hand shake and the old gentleman left the cabin slowly, and went
on shore.

"Done you feel bad, honey," and a fat negress came up to her as she sat
down on the side of her berth feeling rather forlorn. "Wus dat yer par?"

"No," and Jeanne looked up quickly with a smile. "Are you Tennessee? I am
glad to see you. The Captain told me about you."

"Yes; I'se Tennessee, honey, but lawsie! Dey doesn't call me nuffin but
Tenny. But ef yer want ter see the las' ob de ole gem'muns jest foller
yer aunty ter de deck."

Jeanne followed the negress, and stood on the deck watching the
preparations for departure. Mr. Huntsworth saw her and waved his
hand. Jeanne waved hers in response, and as the transport backed out into
the river and steamed southward, she gazed at him until his figure grew
to be a tiny speck and then disappeared in the distance.

"Now, missy, I'se got ter ten' ter de dinner, but you can kum wid me ef
yer likes, elsen you can stay hyar and watch de ribber. Most folks likes
ter do dat. I 'spect mebbe dats de best thing fer yer."

"Well, then I will stay, Mrs. Tenny," smiled Jeanne.

"Mrs. Tenny! Huh! Who is yer talkin' to, honey? I'se jest Tenny or aunty
jest as yer likes. But done go ter puttin' no missis on to it. White folks
done do dat down hyar."

"Then I will call you Tenny," said Jeanne, recoiling just a little from
calling the woman aunty. "But it doesn't seem right not to say Mrs."

"Yes, missy, it's all right. Now I'll get up a good dinner. 'Specks you
is powerful hungry, ain't yer? Ole Tenny gwine te