abel and young Murchison coming toward us. They
were walking arm in arm, and their faces were aglow with the light of
love.
I do not know whether or not Julius had a previous understanding with
Malcolm Murchison by which he was to drive us round by the long road
that day, nor do I know exactly what motive influenced the old man's
exertions in the matter. He was fond of Mabel, but I was old enough, and
knew Julius well enough, to be skeptical of his motives. It is certain
that a most excellent understanding existed between him and Murchison
after the reconciliation, and that when the young people set up
housekeeping over at the old Murchison place, Julius had an opportunity
to enter their service. For some reason or other, however, he preferred
to remain with us. The mare, I might add, was never known to balk again.
APPENDIX
Uncollected Uncle Julius Stories
Dave's Neckliss (1889)
A Deep Sleeper (1893)
Lonesome Ben (1900)
Essay
Superstitions and Folk-Lore of the South (1901)
Dave's Neckliss
"Have some dinner, Uncle Julius?" said my wife. It was a Sunday
afternoon in early autumn. Our two women-servants had gone to a
camp-meeting some miles away, and would not return until evening. My
wife had served the dinner, and we were just rising from the table, when
Julius came up the lane, and, taking off his hat, seated himself on the
piazza.
The old man glanced through the open door at the dinner-table, and his
eyes rested lovingly upon a large sugar-cured ham, from which several
slices had been cut, exposing a rich pink expanse that would have
appealed strongly to the appetite of any hungry Christian.
"Thanky, Miss Annie," he said, after a momentary hesitation, "I dunno ez
I keers ef I does tas'e a piece er dat ham, ef yer'll cut me off a
slice un it."
"No," said Annie, "I won't. Just sit down to the table and help
yourself; eat all you want, and don't be bashful."
Julius drew a chair up to the table, while my wife and I went out on the
piazza. Julius was in my employment; he took his meals with his own
family, but when he happened to be about our house at meal-times, my
wife never let him go away hungry.
I threw myself into a hammock, from which I could see Julius through an
open window. He ate with evident relish, devoting his attention chiefly
to the ham, slice after slice of which disappeared in the spacious
cavity of his mouth. At first the old man ate rapidly, but after the
edge of
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