n by birth, but that made no difference to him.
Grinning and greedy and idle, and a magnificent poltroon, he had been
the servant of Uncle Prudent for about three years. Over and over
again had his master threatened to kick him out, but had kept him on
for fear of doing worse. With a master ever ready to venture on the
most audacious enterprises, Frycollin's cowardice had brought him
many arduous trials. But he had some compensation. Very little had
been said about his gluttony, and still less about his laziness.

Ah, Valet Frycollin, if you could only have read the future! Why, oh
why, Frycollin, did you not remain at Boston with the Sneffels, and
not have given them up when they talked of going to Switzerland? Was
not that a much more suitable place for you than this of Uncle
Prudent's, where danger was daily welcomed?

But here he was, and his master had become used to his faults. He had
one advantage, and that was a consideration. Although he was a Negro
by birth he did not speak like a Negro, and nothing is so irritating
as that hateful jargon in which all the pronouns are possessive and
all the verbs infinitive. Let it be understood, then, that Frycollin
was a thorough coward.

And now it was midnight, and the pale crescent of the moon began to
sink in the west behind the trees in the park. The rays streaming
fitfully through the branches made the shadows darker than ever.
Frycollin looked around him anxiously. "Brrr!" he said, "There are
those fellows there all the time. Positively they are getting nearer!
Master Uncle!" he shouted.

It was thus he called the president of the Weldon Institute, and thus
did the president desire to be called.

At the moment the dispute of the rivals had reached its maximum, and
as they hurled their epithets at each other they walked faster and
faster, and drew farther and farther away from the Schuyllkill
bridge. They had reached the center of a wide clump of trees, whose
summits were just tipped by the parting rays of the moon. Beyond the
trees was a very large clearing--an oval field, a complete
amphitheater. Not a hillock was there to hinder the gallop of the
horses, not a bush to stop the view of the spectators.

And if Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans had not been so deep in their
dispute, and had used their eyes as they were accustomed to, they
would have found the clearing was not in its usual state. Was it a
flour mill that had anchored on it during the night? It looked