up a hoe somewhere and now leaned upon it, resting from his
selection of the melons. But, though he didn't interfere with the glib
narrative, he confirmed it by nods of his gray head, and an occasional
"Dat's so, Cunnel."

Evidently, the farmer was impressed. He stopped pretending to read and
folding his arms, leaned back against the rails, his eyes closed, an
expression of patient, sad endurance upon his long face. His manner
said as plainly as words:

"If this young gabbler _will_ talk I suppose I must listen."

But gradually this manner changed. His eyes opened. The book slid to
the ground. In spite of his own unwillingness he was interested. A
house-boat! He'd never heard of such a thing; but, if the tale were
true, it would be something new to see. Besides, ladies in distress?
That was an appeal no gentleman could deny, even though that gentleman
were as poor as himself. He might well have added "as shiftless;" for
another man in his position would have been stirring himself to get
that fine crop of melons into market.

Jim finished his recital with the eager inquiry:

"Now, sir, don't you think you can sell Billy and put a reasonable
price on him?"

The lad rose to his feet as he asked this and the man slowly followed
his example. Then laying his hand on heart he bowed, saying:

"I cayn't sell Billy. I give you my word. But, a southern planter is
never beyond the power, sir, to bestow a gift. Kindly convey said
Billy to Miss Calvert with the compliments of Colonel Judah Dillingham
of T. Yonder are the bars. They are down. They are always down. So are
my fortunes. Billy, old friend, farewell."

This strange gentleman then solemnly reseated himself and again picked
up his book. A deeper gloom than ever had settled upon him and a sigh
that was almost a sob shook him from head to foot.

Billy, also, slowly and stiffly rose, regarded the reader with what
seemed like grieved amazement and dismally brayed. There was an old
harness upon him, half-leather, half-rope, with a few wisps of
corn-husk, and without delay Jim laid his hand on the bit-ring and
started away.

"Of course, sir, we will pay for the mule. My folks wouldn't, I mean
couldn't, accept such a gift from a stranger. Our house-boat is tied
up at the little wharf down yonder and we'll likely be there for
awhile. I'll come back soon and tell what they say."

Colonel Dillingham made no motion as if he heard and James was too
afraid he would repent