oe was a dark-colored mulatto, about fifty years of age. He was dressed
in a suit of 'butternut homespun,' and held in his hand the ordinary
slouched hat worn by the 'natives.' His hair, the short, crispy wool of
the African, was sprinkled with gray, and he had the thick lips and
broad, heavy features of his race. He was nearly six feet high, stoutly
and compactly built; and but for a disproportion in the size of his
legs, one of which was smaller and two or three inches shorter than the
other, he might have rated as a 'prime field hand.' There was nothing
about him but his high, massive head, clear, piercing eye, and a certain
self-poised manner, to indicate that he was more than an ordinary negro.

'Now, Joe, this is Mr. Kirke; make your best bow, old fellow,' shouted
the lad, as we opened the door, and stepped out on the piazza. Joe made
the requisite bow, and reaching out his hand, said:

'I'se bery glad ter see you, Mr. Kirke.'

'I'm very glad to see you, Joseph; I feel well acquainted with you,' I
replied, returning his cordial greeting.

'I feels well 'quainted wid _you_, sar. I'se wanted ter see you bery
much, Mr. Kirke. You'll 'scuse my sturbin' you; but de boy'--and he laid
his hand on the lad's head--' 'sisted ou my comin' ter onst.'

Before I could reply, his master came out of the house.

'Welcome home, massa Robert,' said the black man, taking Preston warmly
by the hand, and then adding in a quick, anxious tone:

'What luck in Virginny? Did you do it, massa Robert?'

'No,' said Preston, 'I couldn't get a dollar--not a dollar, Joe.'

'I feared dat--I feared dat, massa Robert. Nobody keer nuffin' fur you
but ole Joe--nobody but ole Joe, massa Robert!' His eyes moistened, and
he spoke in an inexpressibly tender tone--the tone of a mother when
speaking to her child.

'Nobody but Mr. Kirke, Joe. He has paid the judgment.'

'Bress you, Mr. Kirke, de Lord bress you, sar. But dar's more you knows,
massa Robert. You tole Mr. Kirke 'bout dem?'

'No, Joe. I know I ought to; but I couldn't.

'P'raps Mr. Kirke wouldn't hab paid dat, if he'd know'd de whole!' said
Joe, in a hesitating tone.

'Undoubtedly I would, Joe. It's no great matter, I'm sure,' I replied.

'Well, Joe, never mind this now. We'll talk affairs all over with Mr.
Kirke before he goes,' said Preston.

'Dat's right, massa Robert; gemman like Mr. Kirke knows 'bout dese tings
better'n you nor me.'

Saying we would see him again that day,