"Mars. George! Is dat you, Mars. George?"
"Unless you want to make a ghost of me by frightening my horse," exclaimed the young man, checking the animal with some difficulty. "What do you want?"
"Mars. George, is you see Miss Kitty w'en you come by des now?"
"No, I didn't stop. Is anything the matter?"
"No, sir, nothin' in 'tickler ain't de matter, 'ceppin' dat Miss Kitty had sump'n' ter tell you."
"Are you one of the Kendrick negroes?"
"No, sir; I don't b'long dar."
"Who are you?"
"I 'clar' ter goodness, I skeer'd ter tell you, Mars. George; kaze you mought fly up en git mad."
The young man laughed with such genuine heartiness that it did the negro good to hear it.