ver in his hand,
the negro bowed low. "No, sah, I ain't gwine kill no dog o' yo'n. Ef I
wuz ter meet yo' dog, I'd say, 'come yeah,' an' I'd hug him right dar.
Huh, I neber seed sich putty women folks in my life, an' I knows da's de
cause o' deze white folks gibbin' me all dis money. Huh, I wouldn' mine
bein' tied up dar ag'in. Mr. Sanderson, I blebe dat yo' name, I'll go
an' bury yo' dog fur you. Ladies an' gennermen, under de moon an' yeah
'neath de trees, I wush you good-night."

"Poetic duck," said Tom, as the darkey turned away.

"Charming in his pleading and in his gallantry," his aunt replied.

"Must have been brought up in the white folks' house," Sanderson
remarked, and then, bowing to the company, marshalled his boys and
marched off.

"Margaret," said Jasper, when again they were seated in the wagon, "I am
proud of you."

"No, you ain't, no sich of a thing, an' you only want a chance to tell
me so." He had slipped one arm about her and her head was on his
shoulder.

"Beautiful," Mrs. Mayfield whispered to Jim. "Ah, what a day this has
been to me. And, Mr. Reverend, I have begun to think that there is
something good about nearly every one. Even that man whom we thought was
such a brute became gentle."

"That's true, ma'm, but I think that there's one man that is absolutely
depraved. Not the murderer, for he might feed the hungry. Not the
wife-beater, for afterward he might beg her forgiveness and kiss her.
Not the man that would rob the dead, for he might give a penny to a
little child. But the man whose soul is in love with money. I don't
mean his soul, for he has none, but the man whose every thought is
money, money. He is a murderer, a wife-beater, a robber of the dead. He
can sleep at night when he knows that by his shrewdness, which has won
him friends among the rich, he has stretched out upon the bare floor a
starving child. Christ did not die for that man."

"No, Mr. Reverend," she replied, her head hung low; and something
dropped upon his hand--a tear.

Like two birds Lou and Tom were twittering. He asked her if she had been
happy that day because she did not think, and she answered that she had
been happy because she had thought.

Suddenly someone ran out of the woods in front of the steers. The wagon
stopped and Jasper shouted: "Whut's the matter here?"

A voice replied: "Wy, sah, atter buryin' de dog I tuck a sho't cut ter
head you off. I's de nigger, an' my heart wuz heavy, an' I had te