kitchen.  When I got a little ways I heard the dim hum of a spinning-wheel wailing along up and sinking along down again; and then I knowed for certain I wished I was dead--for that _is_ the lonesomest sound in the whole world. I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting to Providence to put the right words in my mouth when the time come; for I'd noticed that Providence always did put the right words in my mouth if I left it alone. When I got half-way, first one hound and then another got up and went for me, and of course I stopped and faced them, and kept still.  And such another powwow as they made!  In a quarter of a minute I was a kind of a hub of a wheel, as you may say--spokes made out of dogs--circle of fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses stretched up towards me, a-barking and howling; and more a-coming; you could see them sailing over fences and around corners from everywheres. A nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rolling-pin in her hand, singing out, “Begone _you_ Tige! you Spot! begone sah!” and she fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent them howling, and then the rest followed; and the next second half of them come back, wagging their tails around me, and making friends with me.  There ain't no harm in a hound, nohow. And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their mother's gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way they always do.  And here comes the white woman running from the house, about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same way the little niggers was doing.  She was smiling all over so she could hardly stand--and says: “It's _you_, at last!--_ain't_ it?” I out with a “Yes'm” before I thought. She grabbed me and hugged me tight; an