tening to the gentle flow of
talk with which Kornel gagged him the while I busied myself
with the last turn of the cooking and set the table to
rights. But he glanced at me from time to time with
something of surprise and disapproval; perhaps a white
woman with no Kafir servant had never met his eyes before.
Kornel did not miss the expression of his face.

"'We will show you something new in the dinner line,' he
remarked knowingly. 'There are things you can't teach to a
Kafir, you know.'

"'What things?' demanded my father.

"'Ah, you shall see in a moment,' answered Kornel, nodding
mysteriously. 'Christina will show you. Have you ever heard
of a ragout?'

"My father shook his head. Neither had I; but I held my
tongue.

"'Well,' said Kornel, 'a ragout is a fowl cooked as
Christina has cooked it. It is a very favorite dish among
the rich men in Johannesburg. If you will draw up your
chair to the table you shall see.'

"It is true that I had a good hand with a fowl, stewed in a
fashion of my own, which was mainly the outcome of
ignorance and emergency; but it was very fortunate that on
that day of all days the contrivance should have turned out
so well. It was tender, and the flesh was seasoned to just
the right flavor by the stuff I stewed with it--certain
herbs, Katje, and a hint of a whiff of garlic. Garlic is a
thing you must not play with: like sin, you can never undo
it, whatever forgiveness you win. But a leaf or two bruised
between two clean pebbles, and the pebbles boiled with the
stew, spices the whole thing as a touch of devil spices a
man.

"You maybe sure I was anxious about it, and watched Kornel
and my pa as they started to eat. Kornel swallowed his
first mouthful with an appearance of keen judgment; then he
winked swiftly to me, and nodded slightly. It was his
praise of the dish. Oh, if you had known my man, you would
not need telling that that was enough for me. My father
commenced to eat as though curious of the food before him.
He gave no sign of liking or otherwise; but presently he
squared his shoulders, drew his chair closer to the table,
and gave his mind to the matter.

"'That's right, walk into it,' said Kornel. "'It is very
good indeed,' said my father, eating thoughtfully, and
presently I helped him to some more. Kornel gave him soda-
water with whiskey in it, and thereafter there were other
things to eat--nearly thirty shillings' worth. After that
they sat and smoked, and dran