easy
like on the sheared lamb, take keer of my sweet child and bring her back
agin to poor old Aunt Katy, who'll be all dark and lonesome, when
Sunshine's done gone."

This was regarded as a wonderful speech by the negroes, and as none of
them could hope to equal it, they contented themselves by lustily blowing
their trombones and wiping the same on their shirt sleeves, or the corner
of their aprons. At last the good-byes were all said, Julia merely noticed
the blacks with a slight nod, and then sprang nimbly into the carriage,
which disappeared from view just as the negroes struck up in a loud, clear
and not unmusical tone:

"Oh, it's lonesome now on the old plantation,
It's lonesome now on the old plantation,
It's lonesome now on the old plantation,
Case Sunshine's gone away."

"Stop your yelp, can't you?" said Mr. Middleton, but his voice indicated
that he would not be very much displeased even if they did not obey, so
they tuned their pipes still louder, and this time the six dogs joined in
the chorus, with a long and mournful howl.

"Thar, that'll do," said Mr. Middleton, "now to your work, quick; and mind
the one that works best this week shall go Saturday and carry Miss Crane
some strawberries!"

The negroes needed no other incentive to work than the prospect before
them of going to see Fanny. Never had Mr. Middleton had so much
accomplished in one week. When Friday night came, it was hard telling
which was the favored one. At last it was settled that Ike should go to
Frankfort, and the rest should have a sort of holiday. Ike was a sprightly
negro boy of seventeen, and almost idolized his young mistress Fanny. Long
before "sun up" (a favorite expression in Kentucky for sunrise), he had
filled his basket with strawberries, and just as the first rays of
sunlight streaked the eastern hills, he started on his mission, laden with
numerous messages of love for "sweet Miss Fanny," and a big cranberry pie
from Aunt Judy, who was "sartin the baby wanted some of old Judy's
jimcracks by this time."

Meantime Julia and Fanny had become tolerably well established both in
school and at Mrs. Crane's. Julia was perfectly delighted with her new
quarters, for she said "everything was in style, just as it should be,"
and she readily adopted all the "city notions." But poor Fanny was
continually committing some blunder. She would forget to use her napkin,
or persist in using her knife