, in North Carolina and other States, the freed people who
had sustained to each other the relation of husband and wife as it
existed among slaves, were required by law to register their consent to
continue in the marriage relation. By this simple expedient their former
marriages of convenience received the sanction of law, and their
children the seal of legitimacy. In many cases, however, where the
parties lived in districts remote from the larger towns, the ceremony
was neglected, or never heard of by the freedmen.

"Well," said the lawyer, "if that is the case, and you and aunt Milly
should disagree, it would n't be necessary for you to get a divorce,
even if you should want to marry again. You were never legally married."

"So Milly ain't my lawful wife, den?"

"She may be your wife in one sense of the word, but not in such a sense
as to render you liable to punishment for bigamy if you should marry
another woman. But I hope you will never want to do anything of the
kind, for you have a very good wife now."

Uncle Wellington went away thoughtfully, but with a feeling of
unaccustomed lightness and freedom. He had not felt so free since the
memorable day when he had first heard of the Emancipation Proclamation.
On leaving the lawyer's office, he called at the workshop of one of his
friends, Peter Williams, a shoemaker by trade, who had a brother living
in Ohio.

"Is you hearn f'm Sam lately?" uncle Wellington inquired, after the
conversation had drifted through the usual generalities.

"His mammy got er letter f'm 'im las' week; he 's livin' in de town er
Groveland now."

"How 's he gittin' on?"

"He says he gittin' on monst'us well. He 'low ez how he make five
dollars a day w'ite-washin', an' have all he kin do."

The shoemaker related various details of his brother's prosperity, and
uncle Wellington returned home in a very thoughtful mood, revolving in
his mind a plan of future action. This plan had been vaguely assuming
form ever since the professor's lecture, and the events of the morning
had brought out the detail in bold relief.

Two days after the conversation with the shoemaker, aunt Milly went, in
the afternoon, to visit a sister of hers who lived several miles out in
the country. During her absence, which lasted until nightfall, uncle
Wellington went uptown and purchased a cheap oilcloth valise from a
shrewd son of Israel, who had penetrated to this locality with a stock
of notions and cheap clot