ho came to hear the reading should
have a ticket of leave, written and signed by myself, for each
evening; and that I should be present with the assembly from the
beginning to the close of it.

My delight was very great. And my aunt, grumbling at the whole matter,
and especially at her share in it, found an additional cause of
grumbling in that, she said, I had looked twenty per cent. better ever
since this foolish thing got possession of my head. "I am wondering,"
she remarked to Miss Pinshon, "whatever Daisy will do when she grows
up. I expect nothing but she will be--what do you call them?--one of
those people who run wild over the human race."

"Pirates?" suggested Preston. "Or corsairs?"

"Her mother will be disappointed," went on my aunt. "That is what I
confidently expect."

Miss Pinshon hinted something about the corrective qualities of
mathematics; but I was too happy to heed her or care. I _was_ stronger
and better, I believe, from that day; though I had not much to boast
of. A true tonic had been administered to me; my fainting energies
took a new start.

I watched my opportunity, and went down to the kitchen one evening to
make my preparations. I found Maria alone and sitting in state before
the fire--which I believe was always in the kitchen a regal one. I
hardly aver saw it anything else. She welcomed me with great suavity;
drew up a chair for me; and finding I had something to say, sat then
quite grave and still looking into the blaze, while I unfolded my
plan.

"De Lord is bery good!" was her subdued comment, made when I had done.
"He hab sent His angel, sure!"

"Now, Maria," I went on, "you must tell me who would like to come next
Sunday, you think; and I must make tickets for them. Every one must
have my ticket, with his name on it; and then there will be no fault
found."

"I s'pose not," said Maria--"wid Miss Daisy's name on it."

"Who will come, Maria?"

"Laws, chile, dere's heaps. Dere's Darry, and Pete--Pete, he say de
meetin' de oder night war 'bout de best meetin' he eber 'tended; he
wouldn't miss it for not'ing in de world; he's sure; and dere's ole
'Lize; and de two Jems--no, dere's _tree_ Jems dat is ser'ous; and
Stark, and Carl, and Sharlim----"

"_Sharlim_?" said I, not knowing that this was the Caffir for
Charlemagne.

"Sharlim," Maria repeated. "He don' know much; but he has a leanin'
for de good t'ings. And Darry, he can tell who'll come. I done forget
all de folks' name