tistic
wreaths he admires so much. My good friends keep me in cigars. It is one
of the few consolations in a hard-working pastor's life. Well, sister,
I called around to tell you your investment promises to be even more
remunerative than I expected--and to tell you if you have any more,
or even can borrow any, to let me place it as you did the other. I can
guarantee to double it for you in a short time."

"I ain' got any more--an' ain' got nobody to lend me none."

"Well, ah! Could n 't you get any from your employer?" He lowered
his voice; but Graeme caught the words. "You could raise money on the
silver--and they would never know it. Besides, they owe it to you for
all the work you have done without payment. Think how many years you
worked for them as a slave without pay."

"Now, I ain' gwine to do dat!" exclaimed the old woman.

At this moment Graeme softly opened the door. The mammy was standing
with her back to him, and in one chair, tilted back with his feet in
another chair, was a large and unctuous-looking negro of middle age, in
all the glory of a black broadcloth coat and a white tie. He was engaged
at the moment in blowing small wreaths, while little Ben stood by and
gazed at him with open-eyed wonder and delight.

At sight of Mr. Graeme, the preacher with a gulp, which sadly disturbed
his last effort, rose to his feet. An expression of fear flitted across
his face, then gave way to a crafty, half-insolent look.

"Good evening, sir," he began, with an insinuating smile, not wholly
free from uneasiness.

"Good evening, Amos. Mammy, will you kindly go to your mistress. Take
the boy with you. Run along, son."

The old woman with a half-scared air led the child out, and Mr.
Graeme closed the door and turned back to the visitor, who looked much
embarrassed.

"Take my cigars out of your pocket."

The preacher's hand went involuntarily to his breast-pocket, and then
came down.

"What! Your cigars out of my pocket? I have no cigars of yours, sir." He
spoke with slightly rising severity, as Mr. Graeme remained so calm.

"Oh, yes, you have. But no matter for the present. You had just as well
leave them there for a moment. What are you doing, coming here all the
time?"

"What am I doing?--Coming here? I am a minister of the Gawspel, sir, and
I have a member of my congregation here, and I come to look after her
welfare."

"And to see that she gets recognition?"

"Suh?"--with a wince.

"And incidenta