It was about ten o'clock when Brabant came to see him. Jerry grew sullen
at once as his master approached, but his pride stiffened. This white
man should see that misfortune could not weaken him.

"Well, Jerry," said his former master, "you would not come to me, eh, so
I must come to you. You let a little remark of mine keep you from your
best friend, and put you in the way of losing the labour of years."

Jerry made no answer.

"You've proved yourself able to work well, but Jerry," pausing, "you
haven't yet shown that you're able to take care of yourself, you don't
know how to keep your mouth shut."

The ex-slave tried to prove this a lie by negative pantomime.

"I'm going to lend you the money to start again."

"I won't----"

"Yes, you will, if you don't, I'll lend it to Cindy Ann, and let her
build in her own name. She's got more sense than you, and she knows how
to keep still when things go well."

"Mas' Sam," cried Jerry, rising quickly, "don' len' dat money to Cindy
Ann. W'y ef a ooman's got anything she nevah lets you hyeah de las' of
it."

"Will you take it, then?"

"Yes, suh; yes, suh, an' thank 'e, Mas' Sam." There were sobs some place
back in his throat. "An' nex' time ef I evah gets a sta't agin, I'll
keep my mouf shet. Fac' is, I'll come to you, Mas' Sam, an' borry fu' de
sake o' hidin'."

_Eleven_

THE TRIUMPH OF OL' MIS' PEASE

Between the two women, the feud began in this way: When Ann Pease
divorced her handsome but profligate spouse, William, Nancy Rogers had,
with reprehensible haste, taken him for better or for worse. Of course,
it proved for worse, but Ann Pease had never forgiven her.

"'Pears lak to me," she said, "dat she was des a-waitin' fu' to step
inter my shoes, no mattah how I got outen 'em, whethah I died or
divo'ced."

It was in the hey-day of Nancy Rogers' youth, and she was still
hot-tempered, so she retorted that "Ann Pease sut'ny did unmind huh' o'
de dawg in de mangah." The friends of the two women took sides, and a
war began which waged hotly between them--a war which for the first few
weeks threatened the unity of Mt. Pisgah Church.

But the church in all times has been something of a selfish institution
and has known how to take care of itself. Now, Mt. Pisgah, of necessity,
must recognise divorce, and of equal necessity, re-marriage. So when the
Rev. Isaiah Johnson had been appealed to, he had spread his fat hands,
closed his eyes and said solemnly,