en any better if it had tried;
and the beaten biscuits were as light as snowflakes and as ready to melt
on the tongue; but Judge Priest spoke hardly a word all through the
meal. Jeff, going out to the kitchen for the last course, said to Aunt
Dilsey:

"Ole boss-man seem lak he's got somethin' on his mind worryin' him this
mawnin'."

When Jeff returned, with a turn of crisp waffles in one hand and a
pitcher of cane sirup in the other, he stared in surprise, for the
dining room was empty and he could hear his employer creaking down the
hall. Jeff just naturally hated to see good hot waffles going to waste.
He ate them himself, standing up; and they gave him a zest for his
regular breakfast, which followed in due course of time.

From the old walnut hatrack, with its white-tipped knobs that stood just
inside the front door, Judge Priest picked up a palmleaf fan; and he
held the fan slantwise as a shield for his eyes and his bare head
against the sun's glare as he went down the porch steps and passed out
of his own yard, traversed the empty street and strove with the stubborn
gate latch of the little house that faced his own. It was a poor-looking
little house, and its poorness had extended to its surroundings--as if
poverty was a contagion that spread. In Judge Priest's yard, now, the
grass, though uncared for, yet grew thick and lush; but here, in this
small yard, there were bare, shiny spots of earth showing through the
grass--as though the soil itself was out at elbows and the nap worn off
its green-velvet coat; but the vines about the porch were thick enough
for an ambuscade and from behind their green screen came a voice in
hospitable recognition.

"Is that you, judge? Well sir, I'm glad to see you! Come right in; take
a seat and sit down and rest yourself."

The speaker showed himself in the arched opening of the vine barrier--an
old man--not quite so old, perhaps, as the judge. He was in his
shirtsleeves. There was a patch upon one of the sleeves. His shoes had
been newly shined, but the job was poorly done; the leather showed a
dulled black upon the toes and a weathered yellow at the sides and
heels. As he spoke his voice ran up and down--the voice of a deaf person
who cannot hear his own words clearly, so that he pitches them in a
false key. For added proof of this affliction he held a lean and
slightly tremulous hand cupped behind his ear.

The other hand he extended in greeting as the old judge mounted th