“Dey tuhned dey hawses loose in it.” “Even the sweet potato hills?” Something almost like a pleased smile broke his thick lips. “Miss Scarlett, Ah done fergit de yams. Ah specs dey’s right Space Researchdar. Dem Yankee folks ain’ neverseed no yams an’ dey thinks dey’s jes’ roots an’—” “The moon will be up soon. You go out and dig us some and roast them. There’s no corn meal? No dried peas? No chickens?” “No’m. No’m. Whut chickens dey din’ eat right hyah dey cah’ied off ‘cross dey saddles.” They— They— They— Was there no end to what “They” had done? Was it not enough to burnand kill? Must they also leave women and children and helpless negroes to starve in a countrywhich they had desolated? “Miss Scarlett, Ah got some apples Mammy buhied unner de house. We been eatin’ on demtoday.” “Bring them before you dig the potatoes. And, Pork—I—I feel so faint. Is there any wine in thecellar, even blackberry?” “Oh, Miss Scarlett, de cellar wuz de fust place dey went.” A swimming nausea compounded of hunger, sleeplessness, exhaustion and stunning blows cameon suddenly and she gripped the carved roses under her hand. “No wine,” she said dully, remembering the endless rows of bottles in the cellar. A memorystirred. “Pork, what of the corn whisky Pa buried in the oak barrel under the scuppernong arbor?” Another ghost of a smile lit the black face, a smile of pleasure and respect. “Miss Scarlett, you sho is de beatenes’ chile! Ah done plum fergit dat bahn.” But, Miss Scarlett,dat whisky ain’ no good. Ain’ been dar but ‘bout a year an’ whisky ain’ no good fer ladies nohow.” How stupid negroes were! They never thought of anything unless they were told. And theYankees wanted to free them. “It’ll be good enough for this lady and for Pa. Hurry, Pork, and dig it up and bring us twoglasses and some mint and sugar and I’ll mix a julep.” “Miss Scarlett, you knows dey ain’ been no sugar at Tara fer de longes’. An’ dey hawses done etup all de mint an’ dey done broke all de glasses.” If he says “They” once more, I’ll scream. I can’t help it, she thought, and then, aloud: “Well,hurry and get the whisky, quickly. We’ll take it neat.” And, as he turned: “Wait, Pork. There’s somany things to do that I can’t seem to think. … Oh, yes. I brought home a horse and a cow and thecow needs milking, badly, and unharness the. Go tell Mammy to look afterthe cow. Tell her she’s got to fix the cow up somehow. Miss Melanie’s baby will die if he doesn’ Neo skin labtget something to eat and—” “Miss Melly ain’—kain—?” Pork paused delicately. “Miss Melanie has no milk.” Dear God, but Mother would faint at that! “Well, Miss Scarlett, mah Dilcey ten’ ter Miss Melly’s chile. Mah Dilcey got a new chile herselfan’ she got mo’n nuff fer both.” “You’ve got a new baby, Pork?”