Free-nigger! Free-nigger!_' every morning in this cedar."

"And you think we will specially enjoy that?" asked Elsie, laughing.

"Now, really," cried Marion, taking Elsie's hand, "you know I couldn't
think of such a mean joke. I forgot you were from the North. You seem so
sweet and homelike. He really does sing that way. You will hear him in the
morning, bright and early, '_Free-nigger! Free-nigger! Free-nigger!_' just
as plain as I'm saying it."

"And did you learn to find all these birds' nests by yourself?"

"Papa taught me. I've got some jay-birds and some cat-birds so gentle they
hop right down at my feet. Some people hate jay-birds. But I like them,
they seem to be having such a fine time and enjoy life so. You don't mind
jay-birds, do you?"

"I love every bird that flies."

"Except hawks and owls and buzzards----"

"Well, I've seen so few I can't say I've anything particular against
them."

"Yes, they eat chickens--except the buzzards, and they're so ugly and
filthy. Now, I've a chicken to show you--please don't let Aunt
Cindy--she's to be your cook--please don't let her kill him--he's
crippled--has something the matter with his foot. He was born that way.
Everybody wanted to kill him, but I wouldn't let them. I've had an awful
time raising him, but he's all right now."

Marion lifted a box and showed her the lame pet, softly clucking his
protest against the disturbance of his rest.

"I'll take good care of _him_, never fear," said Elsie, with a tremor in
her voice.

"And I have a queer little black cat I wanted to show you, but he's gone
off somewhere. I'd take him with me--only it's bad luck to move cats. He's
awful wild--won't let anybody pet him but me. Mamma says he's an imp of
Satan--but I love him. He runs up a tree when anybody else tries to get
him. But he climbs right up on my shoulder. I never loved any cat quite as
well as this silly, half-wild one. You don't mind black cats, do you?"

"No, dear; I like cats."

"Then I know you'll be good to him."

"Is that all?" asked Elsie, with amused interest.

"No, I've the funniest yellow dog that comes here at night to pick up the
scraps and things. He isn't my dog--just a little personal friend of
mine--but I like him very much, and always give him something. He's very
cute. I think he's a nigger dog."

"A nigger dog? What's that?"

"He belongs to some coloured people, who don't give turn enough to eat. I
love him because he's so faithful