the yard, I caught sight of the grocer emerging from
the tunnel with a basket on his arm for Chad, who was standing below
me outside his kitchen door with the half-picked duck in his hand. The
settlement of "Misser Grocerman's" unpaid accounts by Miss Nancy on
one of her former visits to Bedford Place had worked a double
miracle--Chad no longer feared the dispenser of fine wines and other
comforts, and the dispenser himself would have emptied his whole shop
into Chad's kitchen and waited months for his pay had that loyal old
servant permitted it. This was evident from the way in which Chad
dropped the half-picked duck on a bench beside the door and hurried
forward to help unpack the basket; and the deferential smile on the
grocer's face as he took out one parcel after another, commenting on
their quality and cheapness.

I had promised Chad to stop long enough to inspect Miss Nancy's
"tarr'pins," and so I waited until Chad's duties were over.

"That's the cheekiest little coon ever come into the store," I hear
the grocer say with a laugh. "I'd a-slid him out on his ear if he'd
said much more."

Chad looked over his pile of bundles--they lay up on his arm; the top
one held in place by his chin--and asked with some anxiety:

"Who, Jim? What did he do?"

"Do! He waltzed in yesterday afternoon with his head up and his under
lip sticking out as if he owned the place. When I told him to take the
sugar back with him, he said he wasn't carrying no bundles for nobody,
he was waiting on Miss Carter. He's out at the gate now."

"Do ye hear dat, Major? Ain't dat 'nough to make a body sick? I been
'spectin' dis ever since he come. I'm gwinter stop dis foolishness
short off."

The old darky waited until the grocer had reached the street, then he
shouted into the gloom of the narrow passage:

"Here, Jim. Come here."

The scrap in buttons slammed to the wicket gate and came running
through the tunnel.

"What you tell dat gemman yisterday when I sont you for dat sugar, wid
yo' lip stickin' out big 'nough for a body ter sit on?"

The boy hung his head.

"You'se waitin' on Miss Caarter, is ye, an' ye ain't caarryin' no
bundles? If I ever hear ye sass anybody round here agin, white or
black, I'll tear dem buttons off ye an' skin ye alive--you'se
caarryin' what I send ye for--do ye hear dat? _Free_, is ye? You'se
free wid yo' sass an' dat's all de freedom you got."

"I--didn't know--yer want me ter--caa'ry it back," said th