hrown back
from his throat, and the red lining gave a picturesque touch to his
small, lithe figure. His face was partly in the shadow, but I could see
that his expression was one of profound melancholy. He aroused himself
at last, and, looking toward me, said with a smile that had no heart in
it, "If all the negroes in the South are so gifted you must have a
happy time down there."

"So it would seem," I answered, "but this negro is an exception. He
tells me that he learned to play while his old mistress was away from
home looking after her plantation interests. He can whistle better than
he can play."

"He has great gifts," said the lad, "and I trust he is treated
accordingly; but I doubt it," and with that he turned away from the
piano with a snap of thumb and finger that sounded for all the world
like a challenge. He turned and went swaggering across the room, and
seated himself in the rocking-chair of which I have spoken. In a word,
and with a snap of the finger, he had thrown mud at the whole South,
and with no more excuse than I should have had had I made an attack on
the North. Yet curiosity, and not irritation, was uppermost in my mind.

His conduct was so puzzling that I determined to have another taste of
it if possible, and so discover what he would be at. So I went back to
the fire and took a seat close to his elbow, while Whistling Jim passed
around his hat, as was his custom when he played for company. He held
it out to all except the young fellow and myself, and then returned to
the piano and played for his own amusement, but so softly that
conversation could flow on undisturbed.

I had a good look at the lad, and liked him all the better. His face
had in it that indescribable quality--a touch of suffering or of
sorrow--that always draws me, and I thought how strange it was that he
should sit there ignorant of the fact that a word or two would make me
his friend for life. I had a great pity for him, and there arose in me
the belief that I had met him before, but whether in reality or only in
a dream I could not make out. It was a foolish and a romantic notion,
but it nibbled around my mind so persistently that I turned my gaze on
the fire and fell into reflections that were both teasing and pleasing.

While thus engaged I suddenly became aware of the fact that the young
fellow was fingering at the worn place on the chair-arm. Conversation
was going on very briskly. The genial landlord, who had joined