oy, "that this kinder thing has been goin' on right
under my nose, an' I not knowin' a word about it? How'd you pick up the
lingo?"

"Gabriel teached it to me," replied Cephas. "He talks it better than any
of the boys, and I come next." This last remark Cephas made with a
blush.

"Do I look pale, my son?" inquired Mr. Sanders, mopping his red face
with his handkerchief. Cephas gave a negative reply by shaking his head.
"Well, I may not look pale, but I shorely feel pale. You'll have to loan
me your arm, Cephas; I feel like Christopher Columbus did when he
discovered Atlanta, Ga."

"Why, he didn't discover Atlanta, Mr. Sanders," protested Cephas.

"He didn't!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. "Well, it was his own fault ef he
didn't. All he had to do was to read the country newspapers. But that's
neither here nor thar. Here I've been buttin' my head ag'in trees, an'
walkin' in my sleep tryin' for to study up some plan to git word to
Gabriel, an' here you walk along the street an' make me a present of the
very thing I want, an' I ain't even thanked you for it."

Cephas couldn't guess what Mr. Sanders was driving at, and he asked no
questions. His mind was too full of his proposed trip. When the
proposition was first broached to Cephas's mother, she scouted the idea
of allowing her boy to make the journey. He was all she had, and should
anything happen to him--well, the world wouldn't be the same world to
her. And it was so far away; why, she had heard some one say that
Savannah was right on the brink of the ocean--that great monster that
swallowed ships and men by the thousand, and was just as hungry
afterward as before. But Cephas began to cry, saying that he wanted to
see Gabriel; and Mr. Sanders told Gabriel's side of the story. Between
the two, the poor woman had no option but to say that she'd consider the
matter, and when a woman begins to consider--well, according to the
ancient philosophers, it's the same as saying yes.

The truth is, a great deal of pressure was brought to bear on Cephas's
mother, in one way and another. Meriwether Clopton called on her,
bringing Captain Falconer. She was not at all pleased to see the
Captain, and she made no effort to conceal her prejudice. "I never did
think that I'd speak to a man in that uniform," she said with a very red
face. But she was better satisfied when Meriwether Clopton told her that
the Captain was the son of his dearest friend, and that he was utterly
opposed to the