Could Hugh believe in Tom Paine?
She hoped not, and with a sigh she was turning from the corner, when the patter of little naked feet was heard upon the stairs, and a bright mulatto child, apparently seven or eight years old, appeared, her face expressive of the admiration with which she regarded Alice, who asked her name.
Curtseying very low, the child replied: "I dunno, missus; I 'spec's I done lost 'em, 'case heap of a while ago, 'fore you're born, I reckon, they call me Leshie, but Mas'r Hugh done nickname me Muggins, and every folks do that now.

You know Mas'r Hugh?
He done rared when he read you's comin'; do this way with his boot, 'By George, Ad will sell the old hut yet without 'sultin' me,'" and the little darky's fist came down upon the window sill in apt imitation of her master.
A crimson flush overspread Alice's face as she wondered if it were possible that the arrangements concerning her coming there had been made without reference to Hugh's wishes.
"It may be, he was away," she sighed; then feeling an intense desire to know more, and being only a woman and mortal, she said to Muggins walking around her in circles, with her fat arms folded upon her bosom.
"Your master did not know I was coming till he returned from New Orleans and found his mother's letter ?" "Who tole you dat ar ?" and Muggins' face was perfectly comical in its bewilderment at what she deemed Alice's foreknowledge.

"But dat's so, dat is.

I hear Aunt Chloe say so, and how't was right mean in Miss 'Lina.

I hate Miss 'Lina! Phew-ew!" and Muggins' face screwed itself into a look of such perfect disgust that Alice could not forbear laughing outright.
"You should not hate any one, my child," she said, while Muggins rejoined: "I can't help it--none of us can; she's so--mean--and so--so--you mustn't never tell, 'case Aunt Chloe get my rags if you do--but she's so low-flung, Claib say.