ourself. You need it! Hark!" He broke off and
listened. "Who's that singing?"

The sound drew nearer--a lugubrious chant, with the weirdest minor
reflections, faintly suggestive of the rag-time ditties of the
music-halls, yet with a plaintive cadence:

"As he went mowin' roun' de fiel'
Er moc'sin bit him on de heel.
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh, toodle-link-uh,
Da-a-dee-e-eaye!

"Dey kyah'd him in ter his Sally deah.
She say, 'Mah Lawd, yo' looks so queah!'
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh, toodle-link-uh,
Da-a-dee-e-e-aye!"

A smile of genuine delight crossed the listener's face. "That would make
the everlasting fortune of a music-hall artist," Valiant muttered, as,
coatless, and with a towel over his arm, he stepped to the piazza.

"Dey laid him down--spang on de groun'.
He-e-e shet-up-his-eyes en looked all aroun'.
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh, toodle-link-uh,
Da-a-dee e-e-aye!

"So den he died, giv' up de Ghos'.
To Abrum's buzzum he did pos'--
Right toodle-link-uh-day,
Right toodle-link-uh-day--"

"Good morning, Uncle Jefferson."

The singer broke off his refrain, set down the twig-broom that he had
been wielding and came toward him. "Mawnin', suh. Mawnin'," he said.
"Hopes yo'-all slep' good. Ah reck'n dem ar birds woke yo' up; dey's
makin' seh er 'miration."

"Thank you. Never slept better in my life. Am I laboring under a
delusion when I imagine I smell coffee?"

Just then there came a voice from the open door of the kitchen: "Calls
yo'se'f er _man_, yo' triflin' reconstructed niggah! W'en marstah
gwineter git he brekfus' wid' yo' ramshacklin' eroun' wid dat dawg all
dis Gawd's-blessid mawnin'? Go fotch some mo' fiah-wood dis minute. Yo'
heah?"

A turbaned head poked itself through the door, with a good-natured
leaf-brown face beneath it, which broadened into a wide smile as its
owner bobbed energetically at Valiant's greeting. "Fo' de _Lawd_!" she
exclaimed, wiping floury hands on a gingham apron. "Yo' sho' is up
early, but Ah got yo' brekfus' mos' ready, suh."

"All right, Aunt Daphne. I'll be back directly."

He sped down to the lake to plunge his head into the cool water and
thereby sharpen the edge of an appetite that needed no honing