The stranger produced a match, and lighted a cigar, saying, as he did so,
"Decentish kind o' wench you've got round there, stranger."
"Why, I reckon she is tol'able fair," said Haley, blowing the smoke out of his mouth.
"Taking her down south?" said the man.
Haley nodded, and smoked on.
"Plantation hand?" said the man.
"Wal," said Haley, "I'm fillin' out an order for a plantation, and I think I shall put her in. They telled me she was a good cook; and they can use her for that, or set her at the cotton-picking. She's got the right fingers for that; I looked at 'em. Sell well, either way;" and Haley resumed his cigar.
"They won't want the young 'un on the plantation," said the man.
"I shall sell him, first chance I find," said Haley, lighting another cigar.
"S'pose you'd be selling
