he 'pears ter be sorter
pinin' away. Dey ain' nuffin pertickler de matter wid 'im--leastways de
doctor say so--'cep'n' a tech er de rheumatiz; but his ha'r is all fell
out, en ef he don't pick up his strenk mighty soon, I spec' I'm gwine
ter lose 'im."

"Dey smoked on awhile, en bimeby ole mars say, 'Well, a bahgin's a
bahgin, but you en me is good fren's, en I doan wan' ter see you lose
all de money you paid fer dat digger [sic]; en ef w'at you say is so, en
I ain't 'sputin' it, he ain't wuf much now. I spec's you wukked him
too ha'd dis summer, er e'se de swamps down here don't agree wid de
san'-hill nigger. So you des lemme know, en ef he gits any wusser I'll
be willin' ter gib yer five hund'ed dollars fer 'im, en take my chances
on his livin'.'

"Sho nuff, when Henry begun ter draw up wid de rheumatiz en it look like
he gwine ter die fer sho, his noo marster sen' fer Mars Dugal', en Mars
Dugal' gin him what he promus, en brung Henry home ag'in. He tuk
good keer uv 'im dyoin' er de winter,--give 'im w'iskey ter rub his
rheumatiz, en terbacker ter smoke, en all he want ter eat,--'caze a
nigger w'at he could make a thousan' dollars a year off'n didn' grow on
eve'y huckleberry bush.

"Nex' spring, w'en de sap ris en Henry's ha'r commence' ter sprout, Mars
Dugal' sole 'im ag'in, down in Robeson County dis time; en he kep' dat
sellin' business up fer five year er mo'. Henry nebber say nuffin 'bout
de goopher ter his noo marsters, 'caze he know he gwine ter be tuk good
keer uv de nex' winter, w'en Mars Dugal' buy him back. En Mars Dugal'
made 'nuff money off'n Henry ter buy anudder plantation ober on Beaver
Crick.

"But long 'bout de een' er dat five year dey come a stranger ter stop
at de plantation. De fus' day he 'uz dere he went out wid Mars Dugal' en
spent all de mawnin' lookin' ober de vimya'd, en atter dinner dey spent
all de evenin' playin' kya'ds. De niggers soon 'skiver' dat he wuz a
Yankee, en dat he come down ter Norf C'lina fer ter learn de w'ite folks
how to raise grapes en make wine. He promus Mars Dugal' he cud make de
grapevimes b'ar twice't ez many grapes, en dat de noo wine-press he wuz
a-sellin' would make mo' d'n twice't ez many gallons er wine. En ole
Mars Dugal' des drunk it all in, des 'peared ter be bewitched wit dat
Yankee. W'en de darkies see dat Yankee runnin' 'roun de vimya'd en
diggin' under de grapevimes, dey shuk dere heads, en 'lowed dat dey
feared Mars Dugal' losin' his min'. Mars Dug