tle tad done growed up tell nobody wouldn't
know her."

The major stepped to the door and called: "Lydia, dear, will you
come?"

Miss Lydia, looking quite grown up and a little worried, came in from
her room.

"Dar, now! What'd I tell you? I knowed dat baby done be plum growed
up. You don't 'member Uncle Mose, child?"

"This is Aunt Cindy's Mose, Lydia," explained the major. "He left
Sunnymead for the West when you were two years old."

"Well," said Miss Lydia, "I can hardly be expected to remember you,
Uncle Mose, at that age. And, as you say, I'm 'plum growed up,' and
was a blessed long time ago. But I'm glad to see you, even if I can't
remember you."

And she was. And so was the major. Something alive and tangible had
come to link them with the happy past. The three sat and talked over
the olden times, the major and Uncle Mose correcting or prompting each
other as they reviewed the plantation scenes and days.

The major inquired what the old man was doing so far from his home.

"Uncle Mose am a delicate," he explained, "to de grand Baptis'
convention in dis city. I never preached none, but bein' a residin'
elder in de church, and able fur to pay my own expenses, dey sent me
along."

"And how did you know we were in Washington?" inquired Miss Lydia.

"Dey's a cullud man works in de hotel whar I stops, what comes from
Mobile. He told me he seen Mars' Pendleton comin' outen dish here
house one mawnin'.

"What I come fur," continued Uncle Mose, reaching into his
pocket--"besides de sight of home folks--was to pay Mars' Pendleton
what I owes him."

"Owe me?" said the major, in surprise.

"Yassir--three hundred dollars." He handed the major a roll of bills.
"When I lef' old mars' says: 'Take dem mule colts, Mose, and, if it be
so you gits able, pay fur 'em'. Yassir--dem was his words. De war had
done lef' old mars' po' hisself. Old mars' bein' 'long ago dead, de
debt descends to Mars' Pendleton. Three hundred dollars. Uncle Mose is
plenty able to pay now. When dat railroad buy my lan' I laid off to
pay fur dem mules. Count de money, Mars' Pendleton. Dat's what I sold
dem mules fur. Yassir."

Tears were in Major Talbot's eyes. He took Uncle Mose's hand and laid
his other upon his shoulder.

"Dear, faithful, old servitor," he said in an unsteady voice, "I don't
mind saying to you that 'Mars' Pendleton' spent his last dollar in the
world a week ago. We will accept this money, Uncle Mose, since, in a
way,