JIMCRACK AND THE JUMBIES. I79 



him some way from he house, an' he hurry frou at he 

 bes' lick. 



" All sudden like a solum voice hoot in he year : 

 ' Who ? who you ? ' He a'mos' fall down, he so 

 frighten. But he say, ' Me Samwell Jones, sah.' 



" De sperit mek no reply to he answer, only say 

 'gin, ' Who ? who you ? ' 



" De boy ha'r stan' up, an' he say, ' Samwell Jones, 

 sah, goin' home, sah, good massa.' 



" Nex' time de voice right ober he head, ' Who ? 

 who you ? ' an' sound lak it come from some deep and 

 dismal grabe. De boy drap he aigs an' run tro' de 

 wood a-hoppin'. 'Me ain' done stole no aigs, good 

 massa ghos' ; it nudder boy wha' come 'hin' me ; he 

 de one stole de aigs, massa ghos' ! ' " 



" Who stole de aigs ? " cried a shrill voice over our 

 heads, as Thomas Ned concluded his story. " Ole 

 Ned stole de aigs ! Ole nigger Ned stole de aigs ! " 



It was Psittacus, of course, who had listened to 

 the whole narrative. Thomas Ned rose as if electri- 

 fied, and his hands quivered as he shook them at the 

 audacious bird, leering at him from the rafters over- 

 head. 



" Massa," he said, " me don' want do harm to any 

 libin' t'ing in dis a house ; but it do seem dat it mus' 

 be ne'ss'ry to twis' dat bud's neck, if yo' wan' git de 

 debil out er him. He done know altogedder too 

 much ; a little knowledge am a dang'rus t'ing, as dat 

 ole raskil done fin' out some time ! " 



