s, honey." And as he looked into Uncle Jake's little red, watery
eyes, he saw no comfort there, and turned away.

Seven months had gone by since the war had ended; still, on this October
afternoon, as the boy lay stretched out on the porch of the old inn, he
dreamed his boyish dreams of romance and heroism.

Suddenly his attention was attracted by the sound of hoofs, and turning
his head he saw a man riding slowly down the road. A new arrival at the
inn was always most interesting. An eager light came into the boy's eyes
as he watched the rider, who was now near enough for him to see how
firmly he sat in his saddle. The man seemed a very part of the strongly
built horse, which carried him with an ease that indicated long habit.

A wiry little negro had also seen the approaching horseman, and was now
hurrying across the lawn to meet him.

"May I spend the night here, my man?" asked the stranger.

"Yessuh--yessuh!" answered Uncle Jake, quickly, and opening the gate he
stepped out and caught the bridle near the bit, as the horseman swung
out of the creaking saddle to the ground.

"Uncle Jake, take the horse around to the stable!" called out the boy,
who felt that the honors of hospitality rested on him, there being no
one else in sight. Then he ran briskly down the walk to meet the
stranger, who extended his fine, strong hand with a little smile, and
said very kindly:

"How do you do, sir?"

"I'm well," replied the boy.

"And what is your name?"

"Jimmy."

"Jimmy? Well, Jimmy is a nice name," he said. Then he turned, and still
held the boy's hand as he watched the little old negro, who stood with
his head under the saddle-skirt, tiptoeing and straining in his effort
to unfasten the girth. Finally, when he succeeded, he flung the saddle
on the ground, and the horse, feeling relieved of his burden, first
shook himself violently, and then expressed his comfort again and again
in deep chest-tones.

During all this time Jimmy's eyes had been fastened on the stranger's
spurs, and a peculiar feeling of incredulity gradually filled his mind.

Silver, indeed! He could not fool him! No one was rich enough to have
real silver spurs! So sternly did he resent what he thought to be an
attempt at deception that he drew his small brown hand slowly out of the
stranger's gentle clasp.

After slipping off the bridle from the horse's head and dropping it by
the saddle, Uncle Jake led him away by his forelock to the stable, an