A TRUE STOKY. 



S<57 



on han', gittin' de officers' breakfast. I was a-stoopin' down by de stove, — ^jist 

 so, same as if yo' foot was de stove, — an' I'd opened de stove do' wid my right 

 han', — so, pushin' it back, jist as I pushes yo' foot, — an' I'd jist got de pan o' 

 hot biscuits in my han' an' was 'bout to raise up, when I see a black face come 

 aroun' under mine, an' de eyes a-lookin' up into mine, jist as I's a-lookin' up 

 clost under yo' face now; an' I jist stopped right dah, an' never budged! jist 

 gazed , an' gazed, so ; an' de pan begin to tremble, an' all of a sudden I knowed! 

 De pan drop' on de flo' an' I grab his lef han' an' shove back his sleeve, — jist 

 so, as I's doin' to you, — an' den I goes for his forehead an' push de hair back, 

 so, an' ' Boy ! ' I says, ' if you an't my Henry, what is you doin' wid dis welt on 

 yo' wris' an' dat sk-yar on yo' forehead ? De Lord God ob heaven be praise', 

 I got my own ag'in ! ' 



" Oh, no, Misto C , I hain't had no trouble. An' i\ojoy ! " 



