She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. " "I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smelling at the bouquet. How dreary it all looks. " "Wait a bit, massa," replied the grinning negro,—"lilly bit—see all right fust. I am your servitor. " "Hoddy," she repeated. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp.
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