sment, had written him of love, letters which he straightway
destroyed. His sense of his position was strong in him; he was proud
of it. There might be "folks outer their haids," but he had the sense
to remember. For months he had lived in a heaven of gratified vanity,
but at last his appetite had begun to falter. He was sated; his soul
longed to wipe a spiritual mouth on the back of a spiritual hand, and
have done. His face, now that the curtain was down and he was leaving
the stage, was doleful, almost sullen.

Stuhk met him anxiously in the wings, and walked with him to his
dressing-room. He felt suddenly very weary of Stuhk.

"Nothing the matter, Gideon, is there? Not feeling sick or anything?"

"No, Misteh Stuhk; no, seh. Jes don' feel extry pert, that's all."

"But what is it--anything bothering you?"

Gideon sat gloomily before his mirror.

"Misteh Stuhk," he said at last, "I been steddyin' it oveh, and I
about come to the delusion that I needs a good po'k-chop. Seems
foolish, I know, but it do' seem as if a good po'k-chop, fried jes
right, would he'p consid'able to disumpate this misery feelin' that's
crawlin' and creepin' round my sperit."

Stuhk laughed.

"Pork-chop, eh? Is that the best you can think of? I know what you
mean, though. I've thought for some time that you were getting a
little overtrained. What you need is--let me see--yes, a nice bottle
of wine. That's the ticket; it will ease things up and won't do you
any harm. I'll go, with you. Ever had any champagne, Gideon?"

Gideon struggled for politeness.

"Yes, seh, I's had champagne, and it's a nice kind of lickeh sho
enough; but, Misteh Stuhk, seh, I don' want any of them high-tone
drinks to-night, an' ef yo' don' mind, I'd rather amble off 'lone, or
mebbe eat that po'k-chop with some otheh cullud man, ef I kin fin' one
that ain' one of them no-'count Carolina niggers. Do you s'pose yo'
could let me have a little money to-night, Misteh Stuhk?"

Stuhk thought rapidly. Gideon had certainly worked hard, and he was
not dissipated. If he wanted to roam the town by himself, there was no
harm in it. The sullenness still showed in the black face; Heaven knew
what he might do if he suddenly began to balk. Stuhk thought it wise
to consent gracefully.

"Good!" he said. "Fly to it. How much do you want?
A hundred?"

"How much is coming to me?"

"About a thousand, Gideon."

"Well, I'd moughty like five hun'red of it, ef that's 'greeable to
yo