d.

"You can in the morning. Meantime, let's get some supper. Here, boy," to a
porter, "don't you see that we are waiting to be shown to the dining-room?"

"Yes, sah. Right dis way, sah," responded the negro, his ivories relaxing
into a broad grin. "Glad ter see yer back, sah. We all's mighty sorry ter
heah dat you is gwine ter go norf, sah."

"Who told you that I was going North, you black rascal?" demanded Mr.
Huntsworth. "I've been North. Have just gotten back. Here, take this,
and tell that waiter to hurry up with that supper."

"Yes, sah. Thank ye, sah," answered the black pocketing the shinplaster
slipped into his hand, with alacrity.

"I think I never saw so many negroes before," remarked Jeanne, looking
about the dining-room. "Where do they all come from?"

"You'll see a great many more before you go back to New York," responded
Mr. Huntsworth. "The South literally teems with them. If the race only
knew its power it would not leave its battles to be fought by the North.
A while ago I said the Mississippi was the key to the rebellion. I was
mistaken. It is dar-key."

Jeanne laughed merrily.

"My dear child, did you see the point?" cried the old gentleman
delightedly. "That is indeed an accomplishment! Now my daughter,
Anne, is a good girl. An excellent girl, but she not only cannot make
a pun, but neither can she see one when it is made. I have a little
weakness that way myself."

"We used to, Dick, father and I, to make them at home. But we did it so
much that mother stopped us. She said that it wasn't refined--I am sure
that I beg your pardon," she broke off in great distress.

"There! Don't take it so to heart," laughed Mr. Huntsworth good-naturedly.
"I know that it isn't just the thing to pun, but

"'A little nonsense now and then
Is relished by the best of men.'

"Then, too, we have the example of the immortal Shakespeare. But I won't
indulge again before you, my dear."

"Oh, but I like them," cried Jeanne. "I think mother stopped us because
we did nothing else for a time. But she used to laugh at some of them
herself. She did, truly."

"Well, well, of course if you enjoy them that is another thing. Perhaps
you can tell when a boy is not a boy."

"I can beat any sort of a drum but a conundrum," was Jeanne's quick reply.

"My, my, but I shall have to look to my laurels," exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth
in mock alarm. "That was very bright."

"It's Dick's," confessed Jeanne blushing. "He