dyah, but I ain' mine dat,
chile. Nancy she done had to wrop her arms up in her ap'on an' she
kyarn meck no zistance 'tall, an' dis nigger ain' keerin' nuttin 'bout
cold den.

"An' jes den two ladies come out de carpenter shop an' went 'long to de
wash-house, an' Nancy say, 'Dyah Miss Charlotte now;' an' twuz Miss
Lucy an' Miss Charlotte; an' we heah Miss Lucy coaxin' Miss Charlotte
to go, tellin' her she kin come right out; an' jes den dee wuz a gret
shout, an' we went in hinst 'em. Twuz Marse George had done teck de
fiddle, an ef he warn' natchelly layin' hit down! he wuz up at de urr
een o' de room, 'way from we all, 'cause we wuz at de do', nigh Miss
Charlotte whar she wuz standin' 'hind some on 'em, wid her eyes on him
mighty timid, like she hidin' from him, an' ev'y nigger in de room wuz
on dat flo'. Gord! suh, dee wuz grinnin' so dee warn' a toof in dat
room you couldn' git you tweezers on; an' you couldn' heah a wud, dee
so proud o' Marse George playin' for 'em.

"Well, dee danced tell you couldn' tell which wuz de clappers an' which
de back-steppers; de whole house look like it wuz rockin'; an' presney
somebody say supper, an' dat stop 'em, an' dee wuz a spell for a
minute, an' Marse George standin' dyah wid de fiddle in he hand. He
face wuz tunned away, an' he wuz studyin'--studyin' 'bout dat urr
Christmas so long ago--an' sudney he face drapt down on de fiddle, an'
he drawed he bow 'cross de strings, an' dat chune 'bout 'You'll
ermember me' begin to whisper right sort. Hit begin so low ev'ybody
had to stop talkin' an' hold dee mouf to heah it; an' Marse George he
ain' know nuttin 'bout it, he done gone back, an' standin' dyah in de
gret hall playin' it for Miss Charlotte, whar done come down de steps
wid her little blue foots an' gret fan, an' standin' dyah in her dim
blue dress an' her fyah arms, an' her gret eyes lookin' in he face so
earnest, whar he ain' gwine nuver speak to no mo'. I see it by de way
he look--an' de fiddle wuz jes pleadin'. He drawed it out jes as fine
as a stran' o' Miss Charlotte's hyah."

[Illustration: "_Hit begin so low ev'ybody had to stop talkin'._"]

"Hit so sweet, Miss Charlotte, mun, she couldn' stan' it; she made to
de do'; an' jes while she watchin' Marse George to keep him from seein'
her he look dat way, an' he eyes tall right into hern.

"Well, suh, de fiddle drapt down on de flo'--perlang!--an' he face wuz
white as a sycamore limb.

"Dee say twuz a swimmin'