amily, their only one. He groped
his way to it, half suffocated by the heat and smoke, and in momentary
dread of the falling in of the roof, reached it at last, and feeling about
among the scanty coverings, laid hold of the child, which was either
insensible or sound asleep.

Taking it in his young, strong arms, holding it underneath the blanket,
which he drew closer about his person, he rushed back again, stepping from
the door just as the roof fell in with a crash.

The woman snatched her babe, and its gallant rescuer fell fainting to the
ground. A falling beam had grazed his head and struck him a heavy blow
upon the shoulder.

With a cry Jim sprang forward, dragged his young master out of reach of
the flying sparks, the overpowering heat, and suffocating smoke, and
dropping, blubbering, down by his side, tried to loosen his cravat.

"Fetch some wattah!" he called, "quick dar, you ongrateful white trash!
you gwine let young Marse Eddie die, when he done gone saved yo' baby from
burnin' up?"

"Take the gourd and run to the spring Celestia Ann; quick, quick as you
kin go," said the mother hugging up her rescued child, and wiping a tear
from her eye with the corner of a very dirty apron.

"There ain't none," answered the child, "we uns ain't got nothin' left;
it's all burnt up."

But a keen, fresh air was already reviving our hero.

"Take me home, Jim," he said faintly. "Stop that wagon," as one was heard
rumbling down the road, still at some distance.

"Hollo dar! jes stop an' take a passenger aboard!" shouted Jim, springing
to his feet and rushing into the road, waving his cap above his head.

"Hollo!" shouted back the other, "dat you Jim Yates? Burnin' down Smith's
house. Dat's a plenepotentiary crime, dat is, sah!"

"Oh go 'long, you fool, Pete White!" retorted Jim, as the other drew rein
close at his side, "you bet you don't catch dis niggah a burnin' no
houses. Spect ole Smith set de fire goin' hisself wid dat ole pipe o'
his'n!"

"An' it's clar burnt down to de ground," observed Pete, gazing with eager
interest at the smouldering ruins. "What you s'pose dey's gwine to do for
sheltah for dem po' chillen?"

"Dat ain't no concern ob mine," returned Jim indifferently. "Ise consarned
'bout getting young Marse Ed'ard safe home, an' don't care nuffin' for all
de white trash in de country. Jes hitch yo' hoss an' help me lift him into
de wagon."

"What's de mattah?" queried Pete, leisurely dismounting and