“He had a little black box, like, on legs, and a cloth on top of it, and he looked at me through a hole in the middle. Then he cried, ‘Now,’ and held up his hand for me to keep still as a mouse; then he counted fifty—and I was took.’
“‘Ah! Indeed! Was it a good likeness?’”
“‘Yes, master. But I looked like the black woman who come ashore last Easter was a year.’”
“With conversation like this we beguiled the time, while I proceeded rapidly with my drawing. At the end of a couple of hours Matt had become so fidgety that I thought it advisable to give her a rest. She sprang up and ran over to inspect the picture. The moment her eyes fell upon it, she uttered a rapturous cry.
“‘Look ye now, ain’t it pretty? Master, am I like that?’
“I answered her it was an excellent likeness, and not too flattering. Her face fell however a little as she proceeded.
“‘Are my cheeks as red as that, master?’”
“‘You are red, Matt,’ I replied, flippantly; ‘so are the roses.’”
“She looked at me thoughtfully. ‘When it’s finished, will you give it to me to keep?’
“‘Well, we shall see.’