the old countries, who are used to it.

After they had finished their milking, and strained and put away their
milk, the kind-hearted little girls proceeded to accomplish their
benevolent purpose. They took from the large wire safe in the cellar a
pie, half a loaf of bread, and a great piece of cheese, and putting them
into a basket, they went to the barn-yard, intending to tell their
mother as soon as the tinman was gone, and not for one moment doubting
her approval--since in the house of an American farmer, victuals, as
Orphy justly observed, are no object.

As they approached the barn-yard they saw, by the light of the moon, the
Yankee coming away from his cart, and returning to the house. The girls
crouched down behind the garden fence till he had passed, and then
cautiously proceeded on their errand. They went to the back of the
cart, intending to deposit their provisions, when they were startled at
seeing something evidently alive moving behind the round opening of the
linen cover; and in a moment the head of a little black child peeped out
of the hole.

The girls were so surprised that they stopped short and could not utter
a word, and the young negro, evidently afraid of being seen, immediately
popped down its head among the tins.

"Amy, did thee see that?" asked Orphy in a low voice.

"Yes, I did so," replied Amy; "what can the Yankee be doing with that
little nigger? and why does he hide it? Let's go and ask the child."

"No, no!" exclaimed Orphy, "the tinman will be angry."

"And who cares if he is?" said Amy; "he has done something he is ashamed
of, and we need not be afraid of him."

They went quite close to the back of the cart, and Amy said, "Here,
little snow-ball, show thyself and speak, and do not be afraid, for
nobody's going to hurt thee."

"How did thee come into this cart?" asked Orphy, "and why does the
Yankee hide thee? Tell us all about it, and be sure not to speak above
thy breath."

The black child again peeped out of the hole, and looking cautiously
round, said, "Are you quite sure the naughty man won't hear us?"

"Quite sure," answered Amy; "but is thee boy or girl?"

"I'm a little gal," replied the child; and with the characteristic
volubility of her race she continued, "and my name's Dinah, and I'm five
years old, and my daddy and mammy are free coloured people, and they
lives a big piece off, and daddy works out, and mammy sells gingerbread
and molasses-beer, and we hav