tter
than anybody in the world."

"I speck so, mebbe," Mr. Genesis returned, with a little complacency.
"How ole yo' pappy?"

"Oh, he's OLD!" Jane explained.

William deigned to correct her. "He's not old, he's middle-aged."

"Well, suh," said Mr. Genesis, "I had three chillum 'fo' I 'uz twenty. I
had two when I 'uz eighteem."

William showed sudden interest. "You did!" he exclaimed. "How old were
you when you had the first one?"

"I 'uz jes' yo' age," said the old man. "I 'uz seventeem."

"By George!" cried William.

Jane seemed much less impressed than William, seventeen being a long way
from ten, though, of course, to seventeen itself hardly any information
could be imagined as more interesting than that conveyed by the words
of the aged Mr. Genesis. The impression made upon William was obviously
profound and favorable.

"By George!" he cried again.

"Genesis he de youngis' one," said the old man. "Genesis he 'uz bawn
when I 'uz sixty-one."

William moved closer. "What became of the one that was born when you
were seventeen?" he asked.

"Well, suh," said Mr. Genesis, "I nev' did know."

At this, Jane's interest equaled William's. Her eyes consented to leave
the busy hands of the aged darky, and, much enlarged, rose to his face.
After a little pause of awe and sympathy she inquired:

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

The old man deliberated within himself. "Seem like it mus' been a boy."

"Did it die?" Jane asked, softly.

"I reckon it mus' be dead by now," he returned, musingly. "Good many of
'em dead: what I KNOWS is dead. Yes'm, I reckon so."

"How old were you when you were married?" William asked, with a manner
of peculiar earnestness;--it was the manner of one who addresses a
colleague.

"Me? Well, suh, dat 'pen's." He seemed to search his memory. "I
rickalect I 'uz ma'ied once in Looavle," he said.

Jane's interest still followed the first child. "Was that where it was
born, Mr. Genesis?" she asked.

He looked puzzled, and paused in his whittling to rub his deeply
corrugated forehead. "Well, suh, mus' been some bawn in Looavle.
Genesis," he called to his industrious son, "whaih 'uz YOU bawn?"

"Right 'n 'is town," laughed Genesis. "You fergit a good deal, pappy,
but I notice you don' fergit come to meals!"

The old man grunted, resuming his whittling busily. "Hain' much use,"
he complained. "Cain' eat nuff'm 'lessen it all gruelly. Man cain' eat
nuff'm 'lessen he got teef. Genesis, di'n'