ester's little two-year-old son to go with them, and now was desirous
of claiming him as her son and heir--a position which he filled very
contentedly until Diddie became ambitious of living in more style than
her neighbors, and offered Pip (Hester's baby) the position of
dining-room servant in her establishment; and he, lured off by the
prospect of playing with the little cups and saucers, deserted Riar for
Diddie. This produced a little coolness, but gradually it wore off, and
the visiting between the parties was resumed.

After "ladies come to see" had lost its novelty, they made little
leaf-boats, and sailed them in the ditch. Then they played "hide the
switch," and at last concluded to try a game of hide-and-seek. This
afforded considerable amusement, so they kept it up some time; and once,
when it became Dumps's time to hide, she ran away to the gin-house, and
got into the pick-room. And while she was standing there all by herself
in the dark, she thought she heard somebody breathing. This frightened
her very much, and she had just opened the door to get out, when a negro
man crawled from under a pile of dirty cotton, and said,

"Little missy, fur de Lord's sake, can't yer gimme sump'n t' eat?"

Dumps was so scared she could hardly stand; but, notwithstanding the
man's haggard face and hollow eyes, and his weird appearance, with the
cotton sticking to his head, his tone was gentle, and she stopped to
look at him more closely.

"Little missy," he said, piteously, "I'se er starvin' ter def. I ain't
had er mouf'l ter eat in fo' days."

"What's the reason?" asked Dumps. "Are you a runaway nigger?"

"Yes, honey; I 'longs ter ole Tight-fis' Smith; an' he wanted ter whup
me fur not gittin' out ter de fiel' in time, an' I tuck'n runned erway
fum 'im, an' now I'm skyeert ter go back, an' ter go anywhar; an' I
can't fin' nuf'n t' eat, an' I'se er starvin' ter def."

"Well, you wait," said Dumps, "an' I'll go bring yer the picnic."

"Don't tell nobody 'boutn my bein' hyear, honey."

"No, I won't," said Dumps, "only Diddie; she's good, an' she won't tell
nobody; an' she can read an' write, an' she'll know what to do better'n
me, because I'm all the time such a little goose. But I'll bring yer
sump'n t' eat; you jes wait er little minute; an' don't yer starve ter
def till I come back."

Dumps ran back to the ditch where the children were, and, taking Diddie
aside in a very mysterious manner, she told her about the po