tle deed to one of them houses up in heaven (that nobody
ever built) sure enough. Goin' straight thar, as fast as a span of
race-horses can carry 'em. Ki! Won't they be disappointed, some on
'em, and Miss Matilda 'long the rest, when she drives up, hosses all a
reekin' sweat, and spects to walk straight into the best room, but is
told to go to the kitchen and turn hoe-cakes for us niggers, who are
eatin' at the fust table, with silver forks and napkins----?"

Here old Milly stopped to breathe, and her daughter Vine, who had
listened breathlessly to her mother's description of the "good time
coming," asked "when these things come to pass, if Miss Carrie wouldn't
have to swing the feathers over the table to keep off the flies,
instead of herself?"

"Yes, that she will, child," returned her mother; "Things is all gwine
to be changed in the wink of your eye. Miss Anna read that very tex'
to me last Sunday and I knew in a minit what it meant. Now thar's Miss
Anna, blessed lamb. She's one of 'em that'll wear her white gowns and
stay in t'other room, with her face shinin' like an ile lamp!"

While this interesting conversation was going on in the kitchen, John
Jr., in the parlor was teasing his mother for money, with which to go
up to Lexington the next day. "You may just as well give it to me
without any fuss," said he, "for if you don't, I'll get my bills at the
Phoenix charged. The old man is good, and they'll trust. But then a
feller feels more independent when he can pay down, and treat a friend,
if he likes; so hand over four or five Vs."

At first Mrs. Livingstone refused, but her head ached so hard and her
"nerves trembled so," that she did not feel equal to the task of
contending with John Jr., who was always sure in the end to have his
own way. Yielding at last to his importunities, she gave him fifteen
dollars, charging him to "keep out of bad company and be a good boy."

"Trust me for that," said he, and pulling the tail of Anna's pet
kitten, upsetting Carrie's work-box, poking a black baby's ribs with
his walking cane, and knocking down a cob-house, which "Thomas
Jefferson" had been all day building, he mounted his favorite
"Firelock," and together with a young negro, rode off.

"The Lord send us a little peace now," said Aunt Milly, tossing her
squalling baby up in the air, and telling Thomas Jefferson not to cry,
"for his young master was done gone off."

"And I hope to goodness he'll stay off a