e road.

There was no doubt about his color, or that he was all over of about
the same shade of black. His old tow trousers and calico shirt
revealed the shining fact in too many places to leave room for a
question, and shoes he had none.

"Dick," said Dabney, "was you ever married?"

"Married!" exclaimed Dick, with a peal of very musical laughter. "Is I
married? No! Is you?"

"No," replied Dabney, "but I was mighty near it, this morning."

"Dat so?" asked Dick, with another show of his white teeth. "Done ye
good, den. Nebber seen ye look so nice afore."

"You'd look nicer'n I do, if you were only dressed up," said Dab.
"Just you put on these."

"Golly!" exclaimed the black boy. But he seized the bundle Dab threw
him, and he had it open in a twinkling. "Anyt'ing in de pockets?" he
asked.

"Guess not," said Dab; "but there's lots of room."

"Say dar was!" exclaimed Dick. "But wont dese t'ings be warm!"

It was quite likely, for the day was not a cool one, and Dick never
seemed to think of pulling off what he had on before getting into his
unexpected present. Coat, vest, and trousers, they were all pulled on
with more quickness than Dab had ever seen the young African display
before.

"I's much obleeged to ye, Mr. Kinzer," said Dick, very proudly, as he
strutted across the road. "On'y I dasn't go back fru de village."

"What'll you do, then?" asked Dab.

"S'pose I'd better go a-fishin'," said Dick. "Will de fish bite?"

"Oh, the clothes wont make any odds to them," said Dabney. "I must go
back to the house."

And so he did, while Dick, on whom the cast-off garments of his white
friend were really a pretty good fit, marched on down the road,
feeling grander than he ever had before in all his life.

"That'll be a good thing to tell Ham Morris when he and Miranda come
home again," muttered Dab, as he re-entered the house.

Late that evening, when Dabney returned from his final duties as
escort to his mother's guests, she rewarded him with more than he
could remember ever receiving of motherly commendation.

"I've been really quite proud of you, Dabney," she said to him, as
she laid her plump hand on the collar of his new coat and kissed him.
"You've behaved like a perfect gentleman."

"Only, mother," exclaimed Keziah, "he spent too much of his time with
that sharp-tongued little Jenny Walters."

"Never mind, Kezi," said Dab. "She didn't know who I was till I told
her. I'm going to wear a label with