THE FATNESS OF THE EARTH. 21e3 



nudder one squak, he go back, grab uiii, an' put uni 

 in bag ; so it was all de night t'rougli, twell come 

 daylight dev stop to count up what dej lin'. An', 

 massa, wha' yo' t'ink ? Well, sah, dat a bag done 

 contain nuttin' 'tall ! Dey been jes a pickin'' up de 

 same ole crapaicd all de night long ! How it hap- 

 pen ? Lemme discose to yo' — dat bag done hah hole 

 in it ! " 



In his search for dainties with which to supply 

 my table, Thomas Ned became quite a nocturnal 

 prowler, and, though I frequently let him know that 

 his actions did not meet my approval, sometimes I 

 went with him in order to gain a new experience. 

 The native opossum, the " mauacou," was his especial 

 delight, as he shared with all his fellow-blacks their 

 liking for its flesh. Not having that fondness for the 

 animal myself, either as a living organism or a pro- 

 spective cadaver, I always abandoned the manacou to 

 Thomas's particular table. 



He grew fat on manacou and sweet potatoes, but 

 he did not relax his endeavors to keep our larder 

 well supplied and my notebook filled with items of 

 interest. It was not long before the " youp " of the 

 manacou ceased to be heard around the Hilltop, and 

 ^ we might have kept a coop of fowls without fear of 

 its deadly depredations. 



And this occurred also to Thomas Ned, for one 

 week after being absent during the space of three 

 days he returned with a fine large cock and two hens, 

 which he placed in a coop behind the house. They 

 were the gift of our good friend at the great house, 



