n the community
became aware of the fact that the negroes were taking lessons in
race-hatred and incendiarism, and as a natural result, Hotchkiss became
a marked man. His comings and goings were all noted, so much so that he
soon found it convenient as well as comfortable to make his
head-quarters in the country, at the home of Judge Mahlon Butts, whose
Union principles had carried him into the Republican Party. The Judge
lived a mile and a half from the corporation line, and Mr. Hotchkiss's
explanation for moving there was that the exercise to be found in
walking back and forth was necessary to his health.

Uncle Plato was very much surprised the next day to be called into the
house where Mr. Sanders was sitting with Meriwether Clopton and Miss
Sarah in order that they might shake hands with him.

"I want to shake your hand, Plato," said his old master. "I've always
thought a great deal of you, but I think more of you to-day than ever
before."

"And you must shake hands with me, Plato," remarked Sarah Clopton.

"Well, sence shakin' han's is comin' more into fashion these days, I
reckon you'll have to shake wi' me," declared Mr. Sanders.

"I declar' ter gracious I dunner whedder you all is makin' fun er me or
not!" exclaimed Uncle Plato. "But sump'n sholy must 'a' happened, kaze
des now when I wuz downtown Mr. Alford call me in his sto' an' 'low,
'Plato, when you wanter buy anything, des come right in, money er no
money, kaze yo' credit des ez good in here ez de best man in town.' I
dunner what done come over eve'ybody." He went away laughing.

Nevertheless, Uncle Plato was more seriously affected by the schemes of
Mr. Hotchkiss than any other inhabitant of Shady Dale. He had been a
leader in the Rev. Jeremiah's church, and up to the day of the
organisation of the Union League, had wielded an influence among the
negroes second only to that of the Rev. Jeremiah himself. But now all
was changed. He soon found that he would have to resign his deaconship,
for those whom he had regarded as his spiritual brethren were now his
enemies--at any rate they were no longer his friends.

But Uncle Plato had one consolation in his troubles, and that was the
strong indorsement and support of Aunt Charity, his wife, who was the
cook at Clopton's, famous from one end of the State to the other for her
biscuits and waffles. Uncle Plato had been somewhat dubious about her
attitude, for the negro women had developed the most intense