BEHIND THE BARS PATIL 
now soiled and rather ragged from chafing against the 
bars. As it moved about, it whisked its tail to and fro, 
in very much the same way as our Catbirds and Brown 
Thrashers. 
Matilda adjusted her big spectacles, grumbling as she 
did so, ‘ Doan you know, chile, dat Missy doan like birds 
to be shet up in cages, and be prisoners, and sole away 
from home no mor’n de General would ’low folks to be 
shet from liberty an’ traded away? I ’spect she’ll be 
powerful mad when she sees dis yere. Whar yeh done 
git hit?” Then, as she drew near the cage and saw the 
bird plainly, which for a moment stopped its fluttering, 
she cried, “ For de love ob Heaven, honey! it’s a Mocker, 
and my ole eyes ain’t seen one since de ole cabin hit burn 
down, and we was all scattered out’en, and left Lou’siana 
for to git Norf! 
“My! but what birds dem Mockers were. I kin just. 
year ’em now.’”’ And Matilda seated herself by the table, 
pushed back her glasses, and closed her eyes. 
“Winter wa’n’t well ober ’fore dey began to sing up, 
and come peepin’ around de cabins and in de road bushes 
lookin’ fer a nest-place. Sometimes dey put it in de thick 
bush ober top de swamp, but more times dey put it close 
in de rose vines, like as if dey t’ought snakes wouldn’t 
likely git ’em dere, ’cause snakes is as set to git Mockers 
as de ole one in de garden ob Eden was bound ter git Ebe. 
“Dat nest, hit was kinder throwed together ob sticks, 
but de beddin’ in hit was good an soft, for de Mockers 
knew mighty well whar ter find ole cotton fluff to make 
a linin’. An’, while all this was doin’, how dey did sing! 
Day wasn’t long ’nough fer him, ’cause ’long towards 
