on, I 'll take yo' roun' dere
ter-morrer mornin'. You wants ter put on yo' bes' clothes an' slick up,
fer dey 're partic'lar people. Ef you git de place I 'll expec' you ter
pay me fer de time I lose in 'tendin' ter yo' business, fer time is
money in dis country, an' folks don't do much fer nuthin'."

Next morning Wellington blacked his shoes carefully, put on a clean
collar, and with the aid of Mrs. Johnson tied his cravat in a jaunty bow
which gave him quite a sprightly air and a much younger look than his
years warranted. Mr. Peterson called for him at eight o'clock. After
traversing several cross streets they turned into Oakwood Avenue and
walked along the finest part of it for about half a mile. The handsome
houses of this famous avenue, the stately trees, the wide-spreading
lawns, dotted with flower beds, fountains and statuary, made up a
picture so far surpassing anything in Wellington's experience as to fill
him with an almost oppressive sense of its beauty.

"Hit looks lack hebben," he said softly.

"It 's a pootty fine street," rejoined his companion, with a judicial
air, "but I don't like dem big lawns. It 's too much trouble ter keep
de grass down. One er dem lawns is big enough to pasture a couple er
cows."

They went down a street running at right angles to the avenue, and
turned into the rear of the corner lot. A large building of pressed
brick, trimmed with stone, loomed up before them.

"Do de gemman lib in dis house?" asked Wellington, gazing with awe at
the front of the building.

"No, dat 's de barn," said Mr. Peterson with good-natured contempt; and
leading the way past a clump of shrubbery to the dwelling-house, he went
up the back steps and rang the door-bell.

The ring was answered by a buxom Irishwoman, of a natural freshness of
complexion deepened to a fiery red by the heat of a kitchen range.
Wellington thought he had seen her before, but his mind had received so
many new impressions lately that it was a minute or two before he
recognized in her the lady whose lap he had involuntarily occupied for a
moment on his first day in Groveland.

"Faith," she exclaimed as she admitted them, "an' it 's mighty glad I am
to see ye ag'in, Misther Payterson! An' how hev ye be'n, Misther
Payterson, sence I see ye lahst?"

"Middlin' well, Mis' Flannigan, middlin' well, 'ceptin' a tech er de
rheumatiz. S'pose you be'n doin' well as usual?"

"Oh yis, as well as a dacent woman could do wid a drunken