trong was obliged to smile. "So you think me in as dangerous a
condition as Pompey was, when he took his last smoke."

"Bless you, Mr. Armstrong for the sweet smile," exclaimed, the negro.
"If you know how good it make me feel here, (laying his hand on his
heart) you would smile pretty often. I can remember when the wren
wasn't merrier than you, and you laughed almost as much as this fool
Felix." At the recollection of those happy days, poor Felix pressed
his hands upon his eyes, and tried to hide the tears, that in spite of
his efforts stole through the fingers. "But," continued he, "I hope in
the name of marcy, that you ain't so bad off as Pompey. That can't be.
I only spoke of him for the sake of--of--the illumination."

"And what would you have me do?" inquired Armstrong, desirous to take
all possible notice of the affectionate fellow.

"I pufess a high 'pinion of the doctor," answered Felix. "There is no
man who gives medicine that tastes worse, and therefore must be the
powerfullest. I would proscribe the doctor, sir."

"You would prescribe the doctor? Ah, Felix, I am afraid my case has
nothing to do with his medicines."

"There is one other thing I should like to mention if I wasn't 'fraid
it might offend Mr. Armstrong," said Felix, hesitatingly.

"And what is that, Felix? I will promise not to be offended."

Thus encouraged, Felix ventured to say.

"I have remark that Mr. Holden come often to see you, and you go to
see him. His visits always seem to leave you kind o' solemncolly like,
and all the world is surprise that you are so condescensious to the
basket-man."

"Enough of this," said Armstrong, abruptly and sternly. "You permit
too much freedom to your tongue respecting your superiors. Leave the
room."

Poor Felix, aghast at the sudden change in the manner of his master,
precipitately retired, casting back a grieved look, and ejaculating
under his breath, as he closed the door, "Good Lord!"

"What is the matter with me?" said Armstrong, presently to himself,
upon being left alone. "I invite this poor fellow, whose only fault is
that he loves me too much, to speak freely, and then treat him harshly
for his unintentional impertinence, assuming an importance that
belongs to no one, and as if we were not worms creeping together
towards the edge of that precipice from which we must fall into
eternity. Whence springs my conduct but from pride, self-will,
selfishness? I would arrogate a superiority ove