g of hands that betokened a joy with a good financial basis.

The truth about the newcomer was that she had just about received her
pension, or that due to her deceased husband, and she would therefore be
rich, rich to the point where avarice would lie in wait for her.

Sis' Jane settled in Mr. Buford's bailiwick, joined the church he
attended, and seemed only waiting with her dollars for the very call
which he was destined to make. She was hardly settled in a little
three-room cottage before he hastened to her side, kindly intent, or its
counterfeit, beaming from his features. He found a weak-looking old lady
propped in a great chair, while another stout and healthy-looking woman
ministered to her wants or stewed about the house in order to be doing
something.

"Ah, which--which is Sis' Jane Callender," he asked, rubbing his hands
for all the world like a clothing dealer over a good customer.

"Dat's Sis' Jane in de cheer," said the animated one, pointing to her
charge. "She feelin' mighty po'ly dis evenin'. What might be yo' name?"
She was promptly told.

"Sis' Jane, hyeah one de good brothahs come to see you to offah his
suvices if you need anything."

"Thanky, brothah, charity," said the weak voice, "sit yo'se'f down. You
set down, Aunt Dicey. Tain't no use a runnin' roun' waitin' on me. I
ain't long fu' dis worl' nohow, mistah."

"Buford is my name an' I came in to see if I could be of any assistance
to you, a-fixin' up yo' mattahs er seein' to anything for you."

"Hit's mighty kind o' you to come, dough I don' 'low I'll need much
fixin' fu' now."

"Oh, we hope you'll soon be better, Sistah Callender."

"Nevah no mo', suh, 'til I reach the Kingdom."

"Sis' Jane Callender, she have been mighty sick," broke in Aunt Dicey
Fairfax, "but I reckon she gwine pull thoo', the Lawd willin'."

"Amen," said Mr. Buford.

"Huh, uh, children, I done hyeahd de washin' of de waters of Jerdon."

"No, no, Sistah Callendah, we hope to see you well and happy in de
injoyment of de pension dat I understan' de gov'ment is goin' to give
you."

"La, chile, I reckon de white folks gwine to git dat money. I ain't
nevah gwine to live to 'ceive it. Des' aftah I been wo'kin' so long fu'
it, too."

The small eyes of Mr. Buford glittered with anxiety and avarice. What,
was this rich plum about to slip from his grasp, just as he was about to
pluck it? It should not be. He leaned over the old lady with intense
eagerness in his ga