"Lor' bress de chile!" said he; "Ise sorry too. I know'd de boy couldn't stay mad at ole Horace long, and ole Horace couldn't at him, sartin. But ye see, Mass' L——, when you com'd to me I was busy; and den Mass' B—— had jis been talking sharp to de ole nigger, 'cause he forgit to take de gray pony to be shod. I tells ye what, Mass' L——, it make ole Horace feel 'siderably bunkshus[A] [21]for a leetle bit; but Missus says we must forgib and forgit. De Lor' knows I kin do de forgittin' part so well, 'tain't no use to say nothin' 'bout t'other. De ole nigger all right now, though, and he got de purtiest sight to show de boy he ebber see in all he born days." [21] [A] This is one of Horace's own words, and I never heard any translation of it. [A] With that he picked up his hat, took me by the hand, and off we started, the best of friends again. How well I remember that day! It was in the middle of May, and the sunshine was so warm and bright, the sky so clear and blue, and the grass, as we passed through the orchard, looked so beautiful, with here and there a snowy drift of apple-blossoms, into whose honeyed hearts the little pilfering bees were diving—and the birds sang so joyously, and such fragrant prophecies of the golden summer-time came floating to us upon every breath of the wind, that I said to[22] Horace, I thought it must be a Sunday that had slipped out of Heaven, by mistake. [22] "Dun'no, Mass' L——," said he; "but I 'spec dey don't make no mistakes up dar." During this we were crossing the orchard toward a little closely-fenced lot, about an eighth of a mile from the house, in which were the sheep and pig-pens. I was not yet perfectly well assured of Horace's good humor, and so, although I was terribly curious to know, I had not dared to ask him where we were going, or what we were going to see. Horace carried a pail of milk, which he had picked up as we passed the milk-house, in one hand, while I had hold of the other with both of mine, and was jumping and swinging along, when, just after we had entered the enclosure and were passing one of the large pig-pens, he set down the pail, and taking me at one of my jumps, with a[23] slight lift of his brawny arm, set me up on the edge of the pen, exclaiming— [23]
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