. "What can we do with
this fellow, Stephen?"

"Send him around to Judge Gingerford's,--I should say that's about the
best thing to do with him," says the witty Stephen.

The man knew well what would please. His master's face lighted up. He
rubbed his hands, and regarded the vagabond with a humorous twinkle,
with malice in it.

"Would you, Stephen? By George, I've a good notion to! Take the
umbrella, and go and show him the way."

Stephen did not like that.

"I was only joking, Sir," he said.

"A good joke, too! Here, you fellow! go with my man. He'll take you to a
house where you'll find friends. Excellent folks! damned
philanthropical! red-hot abolitionists! If you only had nigger-blood,
now, they'd treat you like a prince. I don't know but I'd advise you to
tell 'em you're about a quarter nigger,--they'll think ten times as much
of you!"

It was sufficiently evident that the gentleman did not love his neighbor
the Judge. There was in his tone bitter personal and political hatred.
With his own hands he spread again the soaked umbrella, and, giving it
to the reluctant Stephen, turned him away with the vagabond. Then he
shut the door, and went in. By the fire he pulled off his wet boots, and
put on the warm slippers, which the children brought him with innocent
strife to see which should be foremost. And he gave to each kisses and
toys; for he was a kind father. And sitting down to supper, with their
beaming faces around him, he thought of the beggar-boy only in
connection with the jocular spite he had indulged against his neighbor.

Meanwhile the disgusted Stephen, walking alone under the umbrella,
drove Fessenden's before him through the storm. They turned a corner.
Stephen stopped.

"There, that's the house, where the lights are. Good bye! Luck to you!"
And Stephen and umbrella disappeared in the darkness.

Fessenden's kept on, wearily, wearily! He reached the house. And lo! it
was the same, at the door of which the lady had told him that he, with
his name, was not wanted. Tiger slept in his kennel, and dreamed of
barking at beggars. The Judge, snugly ensconced in his study, listened
to the report of his speech before the Timberville Benevolent
Association. His son read it aloud, in the columns of the "Timberville
Gazette." Gingerford smiled and nodded; for he thought it sounded well.
And Mrs. Gingerford was pleased and proud. And the heart of Gingerford
Junior swelled with the fervor of the eloquence, a