y; "though _that_ is not wanted to remind us of our absent boy.
Good morrow, Susquesus; I hope this fine day agrees with you."

"Sago," returned the Indian, making a dignified and even graceful
forward gesture with one arm, though he did not rise. "Weadder
good--Great Spirit good, dat reason. How squaws do?"

"We are all well, I thank you, Trackless. Good morrow, Jaaf; how do
_you_ do, this fine morning?"

Yop, or Jaap, or Jaaf, rose tottering, made a low obeisance, and then
answered in the semi-respectful, semi-familiar manner of an old,
confidential family servant, as the last existed among our fathers:

"T'ank 'ee, Miss Dus, wid all my heart," he answered. "Pretty well
to-day; but ole Sus, he fail, and grow ol'er and ol'er desp'ate fast!"

Now, of the two, the Indian was much the finest relic of human powers,
though he was less uneasy and more stationary than the black. But the
propensity to see the mote in the eye of his friend, while he forgot the
beam in his own, was a long-established and well-known weakness of
Jaaf, and its present exhibition caused everybody to smile. I was
delighted with the beaming, laughing eyes of Mary Warren in particular,
though she said nothing.

"I cannot say I agree with you, Jaaf," returned my smiling grandmother.
"The Trackless bears his years surprisingly; and I think I have not seen
him look better this many a day than he is looking this morning. We are
none of us as young as we were when we first became acquainted,
Jaaf--which is now near, if not quite, three-score years ago."

"You nuttin' but gal, nudder," growled the negro. "Ole Sus be raal ole
fellow; but Miss Dus and Masser Mordaunt, dey get married only tudder
day. Why _dat_ was a'ter de revylooshen!"

"It was, indeed," replied the venerable woman, with a touch of
melancholy in her tones; "but the revolution took place many, many a
long year since!"

"Well, now, I be surprise, Miss Dus! How you call _dat_ so long, when he
only be tudder day?" retorted the pertinacious negro, who began to grow
crusty, and to speak in a short, spiteful way, as if displeased by
hearing that to which he could not assent. "Masser Corny was little ole,
p'r'aps, if he lib, but all de rest ob you nuttin' but children. Tell me
one t'ing, Miss Dus, be it true dey's got a town at Satanstoe?"

"An attempt was made, a few years since, to turn the whole country into
towns, and, among other places, the Neck; but I believe it will never be
anythi