I b'longs to Mars Cary--an' I b'longed to his pa befo' him.

Dey feed me and gimme de bes' dey got.

Dey take care of me when I'm sick--an' dey take care of me when I'm well--an' _I_ gwine to stay right here.

But you?
You jes' go on wid de Yankees, an' black der boots.

Dey'll free you," and Uncle Billy's voice rose in prophetic tones--"an you'll _keep on_ blackin' boots! Go 'long now, you low-down, dollar-an'-a-quarter nigger!" as Jeems Henry backed away.