tell
you? wha'd I tell you?" and Aunt Sophy replied, "Hit's de pa'able of
de mo'nin' stahs."

"Don't talk to me 'bout no mo'nin' stahs," the mammy snorted; "Gawd
jes' fitted dey voices togeddah, an' den j'ined dey hea'ts. De mo'nin'
stahs ain't got nothin' to do wid it."

"Mam' Henry," said Aunt Sophy, impressively, "you's a' oldah ooman den
I is, an' I ain' sputin' hit; but I say dey done 'filled Scripter
'bout de mo'nin' stahs; dey's done sung deyse'ves togeddah."

The old woman sniffed.

The next Sunday at meeting some one got the start of Gideon, and began
a new hymn. It ran:

"At de ma'ige of de Lamb, oh Lawd,
God done gin His 'sent.
Dey dressed de Lamb all up in white,
God done gin His 'sent.
Oh, wasn't dat a happy day,
Oh, wasn't dat a happy day, Good Lawd,
Oh, wasn't dat a happy day,
De ma'ige of de Lamb!"

The wailing minor of the beginning broke into a joyous chorus at the
end, and Gideon wept and laughed in turn, for it was his wedding-song.

The young man had a confidential chat with his master the next
morning, and the happy secret was revealed.

"What, you scamp!" said Dudley Stone. "Why, you've got even more sense
than I gave you credit for; you've picked out the finest girl on the
plantation, and the one best suited to you. You couldn't have done
better if the match had been made for you. I reckon this must be one
of the marriages that are made in heaven. Marry her, yes, and with a
preacher. I don't see why you want to wait a year."

Gideon told him his hopes of a near cabin.

"Better still," his master went on; "with you two joined and up near
the big house, I'll feel as safe for the folks as if an army was
camped around, and, Gideon, my boy,"--he put his arms on the black
man's shoulders,--"if I should slip away some day--"

The slave looked up, startled.

"I mean if I should die--I'm not going to run off, don't be alarmed--I
want you to help your young Mas' Dud look after his mother and Miss
Ellen; you hear? Now that's the one promise I ask of you,--come what
may, look after the women folks." And the man promised and went away
smiling.

His year of engagement, the happiest time of a young man's life, began
on golden wings. There came rumors of war, and the wings of the
glad-hued year drooped sadly. Sadly they drooped, and seemed to fold,
when one day, between the rumors and predictions of strife, Dudley
Stone, the old master, slip