singer, always in loud and uninterpretable conversation with San Rosa,
the mocking-bird. The birds hung in the broad, deep window of the
sitting-room, in the shade of the jasmine and honeysuckle vines that
embowered it and filled the air with delicious perfume. The dog and
cat, when not inclined to active enjoyments, were accommodated with
comfortable beds in the adjoining apartment, which was the sleeping-room
of their mistress.

The new household pet became an occupant of this same room.

"Laws, now, Miss Tilda, ye a'n't gwine to put de chile in ther wid all
de dogs and cats, now. 'Pears ye might have company enough o' nights
widout takin' in a cryin' baby. She'll cry sure widout her mammy, and
what ye gwine to do thin?" and old Rosa stoutly protested against the
arrangement.

"Never mind, Aunt Rosa, don't worry now; I'll manage to take good
care of the little creature. I know what you're after,--you want her
yourself."

"Ho, ho ho! Laws, now, Miss Tilda, you dun know noffing 'bout babies;
takes an old mammy like me to fotch 'em up. Come here, child; what's yer
name?"

The frightened little one, whose tongue had not yet learned to utter
many words, made no attempt to answer, but stood timidly looking from
one to another of the surrounding group.

"She ha'n't got no name, 'ta'n't likely," suggested Nance.

"We must christen her, then," said Miss Lee.

"Carroll called her Tidy," remarked the old gentleman, entering the room
at that moment.

"DAT'S a name of 'spectability," said Rosa, with a satisfied air. "'Tis
my 'pinion chillen should allus have 'spectable names, else they're
'posed on in dis yer world. Nudd's Tidy, now, dere's a spec'men for yer.
Never was no more 'complished 'fectioner dan she. She knowed how to cook
all de earth, she did. Hi! couldn't she barbecue a heifer, or brile
a cock's comb, jest as 'spertly as Miss Tilda here broiders a ruffle.
Right smart cretur she wor. And so YE'RE a gwine to be, honey,--your old
mammy sees it in de tips ob yer fingers;" and Rosa caught up the child,
and well-nigh smothered it with all sorts of maternal fondnesses.

"Now Nance," continued the old negress, turning with an air of authority
to the tall, loose-jointed, reed-like maid, "Now Nance, ye mind yer
doin's in dese yer premises. Don't ye go for to kick de young un round
like as ef she cost noffin'. Ef ye do, look out;" and she shook her
turbaned head, and doubled her fist in very threatening manner before