ld nurse. Of course these old negro superstitions were
absurd,--but if the charm did no good, it at least would do no harm.

XII

ANOTHER SOUTHERN PRODUCT

One morning shortly after the opening of the hospital, while Dr. Miller
was making his early rounds, a new patient walked in with a smile on his
face and a broken arm hanging limply by his side. Miller recognized in
him a black giant by the name of Josh Green, who for many years had
worked on the docks for Miller's father,--and simultaneously identified
him as the dust-begrimed negro who had stolen a ride to Wellington on
the trucks of a passenger car.

"Well, Josh," asked the doctor, as he examined the fracture, "how did
you get this? Been fighting again?"

"No, suh, I don' s'pose you could ha'dly call it a fight. One er dem
dagoes off'n a Souf American boat gimme some er his jaw, an' I give 'im
a back answer, an' here I is wid a broken arm. He got holt er a
belayin'-pin befo' I could hit 'im."

"What became of the other man?" demanded Miller suspiciously. He
perceived, from the indifference with which Josh bore the manipulation
of the fractured limb, that such an accident need not have interfered
seriously with the use of the remaining arm, and he knew that Josh had a
reputation for absolute fearlessness.

"Lemme see," said Josh reflectively, "ef I kin 'member w'at _did_ become
er him! Oh, yes, I 'member now! Dey tuck him ter de Marine Horspittle
in de amberlance, 'cause his leg wuz broke, an' I reckon somethin' must
'a' accident'ly hit 'im in de jaw, fer he wuz scatt'rin' teeth all de
way 'long de street. I didn' wan' ter kill de man, fer he might have
somebody dependin' on 'im, an' I knows how dat'd be ter dem. But no man
kin call me a damn' low-down nigger and keep on enjoyin' good health
right along."

"It was considerate of you to spare his life," said Miller dryly, "but
you'll hit the wrong man some day. These are bad times for bad negroes.
You'll get into a quarrel with a white man, and at the end of it there'll
be a lynching, or a funeral. You'd better be peaceable and endure a
little injustice, rather than run the risk of a sudden and violent
death."

"I expec's ter die a vi'lent death in a quarrel wid a w'ite man,"
replied Josh, in a matter-of-fact tone, "an' fu'thermo', he's gwine ter
die at the same time, er a little befo'. I be'n takin' my own time 'bout
killin' 'im; I ain' be'n crowdin' de man, but I'll be ready after a
w'ile, an'