shuck de han' er ole Marse Henry right
over dar in dat ar church."
"Who was ole Marse Henry?" I enquired.
"I dunno, honey, caze he died afo' my day, but he mus' hev done a
powerful heap er talkin' while he wuz 'live."
"Whom did he talk to, Uncle Methusalah?"
"Ter hisself mostly, I reckon, caze you know folks ain' got time al'ays
ter be lisen'in'. But hit wuz en dish yer church dat he stood up en ax
'em please ter gin 'im liberty er ter gin 'im deaf."
"An' which did they give him, Uncle?"
"Wall, honey, ez fur ez I recollect de story dey gun 'im bofe."
Bending over in his old blue army coat with the tarnished epaulets, he
prodded the pile of leaves, where the scented smoke hung low in a cloud.
The wind stirred softly in the grass, and a small flame ran along a bent
twig of maple to a single scarlet leaf at the end.
"Did they give 'em to him because he talked too much?" I asked.
"I ain' never hyern ner better reason, chile. Folks cyarn' stan' too
much er de gab nohow, en' dey sez dat he 'ouldn't let up, but kep' up
sech a racket dat dey couldn't git ner sleep. Den at las' ole King
George over dar in England sent de hull army clear across de water jes'
ter shet his mouf."
"An' did he shut it?"
"Dat's all er hit dat I ever hyern tell, boy, but ef'n you don' quit
axin' folks questions day in en day out, he'll send all de way over yer
agin' jes' ter shet yourn."
He went off, gathering the leaves into another pile at a little
distance, and after a moment I followed him and stood with my back
against a high brick vault.
"Is there any way, Uncle Methusalah, that you can grow up befo' yo'
time?" I asked.
"Dar 'tis agin!" exclaimed the old negro, but he added kindly enough,
"Dey tell me you kin do hit by stretchin', chile, but I ain' never seed
hit wid my eyes, en w'at I ain' seed wid my eyes I ain' set much sto'
by."
His scepticism, however, honest as it was, did not prevent my seizing
upon the faint hope he offered, and I had just begun to stretch myself
violently against the vault, when a voice speaking at my back brought my
heels suddenly to the safe earth again.
"Boy," said the voice, "do you want a dog?"
Turning quickly I found myself face to face with the princess of the
enchanted garden. She wore a fresh white coat and a furry white cap and
a pair of red shoes that danced up and down. In her hand she carried a
dirty twine string, the other end of which was tied about the neck of a
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