eturned Dr. Boldish, seriously, "in our friend's
presence,"--with a glance toward Cresswell. Then he arose.

"My friends," he said, touching his finger-tips and using blank verse in
A minor. "This is an auspicious day. You should be thankful for the
gifts of the Lord. His bounty surrounds you--the trees, the fields, the
glorious sun. He gives cotton to clothe you, corn to eat, devoted
friends to teach you. Be joyful. Be good. Above all, be thrifty and save
your money, and do not complain and whine at your apparent
disadvantages. Remember that God did not create men equal but unequal,
and set metes and bounds. It is not for us to question the wisdom of the
Almighty, but to bow humbly to His will.

"Remember that the slavery of your people was not necessarily a crime.
It was a school of work and love. It gave you noble friends, like Mr.
Cresswell here." A restless stirring, and the battery of eyes was turned
upon that imperturbable gentleman, as if he were some strange animal.
"Love and serve them. Remember that we get, after all, little education
from books; rather in the fields, at the plough and in the kitchen. Let
your ambition be to serve rather than rule, to be humble followers of
the lowly Jesus."

With an upward glance the Rev. Dr. Boldish sat down amid a silence a
shade more intense than that which had greeted him. Then slowly from the
far corner rose a thin voice, tremulously. It wavered on the air and
almost broke, then swelled in sweet, low music. Other and stronger
voices gathered themselves to it, until two hundred were singing a soft
minor wail that gripped the hearts and tingled in the ears of the
hearers. Mr. Bocombe groped with a puzzled expression to find the pocket
for his note-book; Harry Cresswell dropped his eyes, and on Mrs.
Vanderpool's lips the smile died. Mary Taylor flushed, and Mrs. Grey
cried frankly:

"Poor things!" she whispered.

"Now," said Mrs. Grey, turning about, "we haven't but just a moment and
we want to take a little look at your work." She smiled graciously upon
Miss Smith.

Mrs. Grey thought the cooking-school very nice.

"I suppose," she said, "that you furnish cooks for the county."

"Largely," said Miss Smith. Mrs. Vanderpool looked surprised, but Miss
Smith added: "This county, you know, is mostly black." Mrs. Grey did not
catch the point.

The dormitories were neat and the ladies expressed great pleasure in
them.

"It is certainly nice for them to know what a cl