ling to see the humor in the situation, for you are a woman; but
that you should not be curious as to the motives which actuate Uncle
Simon, that you should be unmoved by a burning desire to know why this
staunch old servant who has for so many years pictured hell each
Sunday to his fellow-servants should wish a vacation--that I can
neither understand nor forgive."

"Oh, I can see why easily enough, and so could you, if you were not so
intent on laughing at everything. The poor old man is tired and wants
rest, that's all." And Mrs. Marston turned into the house with a
stately step, for she was a proud and dignified lady.

"And that reason satisfies you? Ah, Mrs. Marston, Mrs. Marston, you
discredit your sex!" her husband sighed, mockingly after her.

There was perhaps some ground for George Marston's perplexity as to
Uncle Simon's intentions. His request for "Sundays off" was so
entirely out of the usual order of things. The old man, with the other
servants on the plantation had been bequeathed to Marston by his
father. Even then, Uncle Simon was an old man, and for many years in
the elder Marston's time had been the plantation exhorter. In this
position he continued, and as his age increased, did little of
anything else. He had a little log house built in a stretch of woods
convenient to the quarters, where Sunday after Sunday he held forth to
as many of the hands as could be encouraged to attend.

With time, the importance of his situation grew upon him. He would
have thought as soon of giving up his life as his pulpit to any one
else. He was never absent a single meeting day in all that time.
Sunday after Sunday he was in his place expounding his doctrine. He
had grown officious, too, and if any of his congregation were away
from service, Monday morning found him early at their cabins to find
out the reason why.

After a life, then, of such punctilious rigidity, it is no wonder that
his master could not accept Mrs. Marston's simple excuse for Uncle
Simon's dereliction, "that the old man needed rest." For the time
being, the good lady might have her way, as all good ladies should,
but as for him, he chose to watch and wait and speculate.

Mrs. Marston, however, as well as her husband, was destined to hear
more that day of Uncle Simon's strange move, for there was one other
person on the place who was not satisfied with Uncle Simon's
explanation of his conduct, and yet could not as easily as the
mistress formula