FOLKS FROM DIXIE
"Co'se I has. I done made him somep'n' diffunt dis yeah."
"Made him somep'n' diffunt—whut you say, Lize?" exclaimed the old man, laying his knife and fork on his plate and looking up at his wife with wide-open eyes. "You ain't gwine change afteh all dese yeahs?"
"Yes. I jes' pintly had to. It's been de same thing now fu' mo' 'n twenty yeahs."
"Whut you done made fu' him?"
"I 's made him a comfo't to go roun' his naik."
"But, Lize, ol' Miss Cla'indy allus sont him gloves knit wif huh own han'. Ain't you feared Mas' Estridge gwine to 'spect?"
"No, he ain't gwine to 'spect. He don't tek no notice o' nuffin', an' he jes' pintly had to have dat comfo't fu' his naik, 'ca'se he boun' to go out in de col' sometime er ruther an' he got plenty gloves."
"I 's feared," said the old man, sententiously, "I 's mighty feared. I would n't have Mastah know we been doin' fu' him an' a-sendin' him dese presents all dis time fu' nuffin' in de worl'. It 'u'd hu't him mighty bad."
"He ain't foun' out all dese yeahs, an' he ain't
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