When, therefore, on the 12th of October, 1870--the date is duly
recorded in one of Miss Theodosia's letters--she alighted from
the cars in Atlanta, in the midst of a great crowd, she fully
expected to find her brother waiting to receive her. The bells of
several locomotives were ringing, a number of trains were moving
in and out, and the porters and baggage-men were screaming and
bawling to such an extent that for several moments Miss
Huntingdon was considerably confused; so much so that she paused
in the hope that her brother would suddenly appear and rescue her
from the smoke, and dust, and din. At that moment some one
touched her on the arm, and she heard a strong, half-confident,
half-apologetic voice exclaim:
"Ain't dish yer Miss Doshy?"
Turning, Miss Theodosia saw at her side a tall, gray-haired
negro. Elaborating the incident afterward to her friends, she was
pleased to say that the appearance of the old man was somewhat
picturesque. He stood towering above her, his hat in one hand, a
carriage-whip in the other, and an expectant smile lighting up
his rugged face. She remembered a name her brother had often used
in his letters, and, with a woman's tact, she held out her hand,
and said:
"Is this Uncle Remus?"
"Law, Miss Doshy! how you know de ole nigger? I know'd you by
de faver; but how you know me?" And then, without waiting for a
reply: "Miss Sally, she sick in bed, en Mars John, he bleedzd ter
go in de country, en dey tuck'n sont me.
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