nd more.

"Hain't you got it wrong?" he persisted. "Lifer, you know. Hunder'd'n
One--lifer--plays off crazy--forty lashes every Monday. Don't you
know?"

"Yes, yes, I know; but we'll not talk about that now."

They brought a good supper to his room, and he ate ravenously. They
persuaded him to wash in a basin in the room, though he begged hard to
be permitted to go to the pump. Later that night the gentleman went to
his room and asked him if he wanted anything.

"Well, I'll tell you. You forgot to take it off," Baker replied,
pointing to his ankles.

The gentleman was perplexed for a moment, and then he stooped and
unlocked and removed an imaginary ball and chain. Baker seemed
relieved. Said the gentleman, as Baker was preparing for bed:

"This is not a penitentiary. It is my house, and I do not whip anybody.
I will give you all you want to eat, and good clothes, and you may go
wherever you please. Do you understand?"

Baker looked at him with vacant eyes and made no reply. He undressed,
lay down, sighed wearily, and fell asleep.

II.

A stifling Southern September sun beat down upon the mountains and
valleys. The thrush and the mocking-bird had been driven to cool
places, and their songs were not heard in the trees. The hotel was
crowded with refugees from Memphis. A terrible scourge was sweeping
through Tennessee, and its black shadow was creeping down to the Gulf
of Mexico; and as it crept it mowed down young and old in its path.

"Well, Baker, how are you getting along?" It was the round, cheerful
voice of Mr. Clayton.

The man from Georgia was stooping over a pail, scouring it with sand
and a cloth. Upon hearing the greeting he hung the cloth over the pail
and came slowly to the perpendicular, putting his hands, during the
operation, upon the small of his back, as if the hinges in that region
were old and rusty and needed care.

"Oh, well, now, I'll tell you. Nothin' pertickler to complain on,
excep'----"

"Well?"

"I don't believe it's quite exactly right."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, now, you see--there ain't nobody a-listenin', is there?"

"No."

"I think they ought to give me one more piece, any way."

"Piece of what?"

"Mebbe two more pieces."

"Of what?"

"Pie. It was pie I was a-talkin' about all the time."

"Don't they give you sufficient?"

"Pie?"

"Yes."

"No, sir; not nigh enough. An'--an'--come here closter. I'm a-gittin'
weak--I'm a-starvin'!" he whispered.

"