ndexter wrong. He's went an'
'sperienced a change of heart in his feelin's tow'ds whut's goin' on
yere. Furthermo'"--and here he favored his flattered listener with a
confidential and a meaning wink--"he got sense 'nuff, Jeffy has, to know
w'en he's crowded plum out of the runnin' by somebody w'ich is mo'
swiftly gaited 'en whut he is, an' natchelly he crave to stand in well
wid a winner. Naw, suh, that Jeffy, he'd be most highly overjoyed to
haul off an' lend a helpin' hand, ef by so doin' he mout put you onder a
favor to him."

Cephus sniffed, half disarmed but wavering.

"Wharin' could he he'p out? He ain't ownin' no private string of
ridin'-hosses so fur ez I've took note of."

"The w'ite man he wuks fur is got one an' Jeffy gits the borrowin' use
of her--it's a mare--w'enever he want to, ez I knows frum whut he tells
me an' frum whut I seen. Purfessor, that mare is jes' natchelly ordained
an' cut out fur peradin'--broad ez a feather-tick, gentle ez the onborn
lamb, an' mouty nigh pyure white--perzactly the right color fur a gran'
marshal's hoss. Crowds ain't goin' pester that lady-mare none. Music
ain't goin' disturb her none whutsoever, neither."

"Whut's her reg'lar gait?"

"Her reg'lar gait is standin' still. But w'en she's travelin' at her
bestest speed she uses the cemetery walk. See that mare goin' pas' you
w'en she's in a hurry an' you say to yo'se'f, you say, 'Yere you is,
bound fur de buryin'-groun', but how come you got separated frum the
hearse?' Purfessor, that mare's entitled Christian name is Mittie May.
Did you ever hear of ary thing on fo' laigs, ur two, w'ich answered to
the name of Mittie May that wuz tricky?"

"Better be mouty sure," said the cautious Cephus, concerned for the
safety and dignity of the creature which he held most dear of all on
this earth. "'Member, I'll be needin' both hands free--'twon't be no
time fur me to go jerkin' on the reins w'en my saxophone is requirin' to
be played."

"You's right there," agreed Cump. "Twouldn't never do, neither, fur you
to slip off an' mebbe git yo'se'f crippled up. Whar would this yere
pertracted meetin' be then? Lemme think. Ah, hah! I got it--the notion
jes' come to me. Purfessor, listen yere." He placed his lips close to
the other's ear and spoke perhaps fifty words in a confidential whisper.
In token of approval and acquiescence the Professor warmly clasped the
right hand of this forethoughted Glass.

After such a manner was Cephus Fr