make no reply.

"Phipps, do you expect to get up to-morrow morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, you do! Very well! See that you do."

"Yes, sir."

"And Phipps--"

"Yes, sir."

"Bring the grays and the light wagon to the door to-morrow morning at
seven o'clock."

"Yes, sir."

"And Phipps, gather all the old clothes about the house that you can't
use yourself, and tie 'em up in a bundle, and put 'em into the back of
the wagon. Mum is the word, and if Mrs. Belcher asks you any questions,
tell her I think of turning Sister of Charity."

Phipps snickered.

"And Phipps, make a basket of cold meat and goodies, and put in with the
clothes."

"Yes, sir."

"And Phipps, remember:--seven o'clock, sharp, and no soldiering."

"Yes, sir."

"And Phipps, here is a cigar that cost twenty-five cents. Do it up in a
paper, and lay it away. Keep it to remember me by."

This joke was too good to be passed over lightly, and so Phipps giggled,
took the cigar, put it caressingly to his nose, and then slipped it into
his pocket.

"Now make yourself scarce," said his master, and the man retired,
entirely conscious that the person he served had some rascally scheme on
foot, and heartily sympathetic with him in the project of its execution.

Promptly at seven the next morning, the rakish pair of trotters stood
before the door, with a basket and a large bundle in the back of the
rakish little wagon. Almost at the same moment, the proprietor came out,
buttoning his overcoat. Phipps leaped out, then followed his master into
the wagon, who, taking the reins, drove off at a rattling pace up the
long hill toward Tom Buffum's boarding-house. The road lay entirely
outside of the village, so that the unusual drive was not observed.

Arriving at the poor-house, Mr. Belcher gave the reins to his servant,
and, with a sharp rap upon the door with the butt of his whip, summoned
to the latch the red-faced and stuffy keeper. What passed between them,
Phipps did not hear, although he tried very hard to do so. At the close
of a half hour's buzzing conversation, Tom Buffum took the bundle from
the wagon, and pitched it into his doorway. Then, with the basket on his
arm, he and Mr. Belcher made their way across the street to the
dormitories and cells occupied by the paupers of both sexes and all ages
and conditions. Even the hard-hearted proprietor saw that which wounded
his blunted sensibilities; but he looked on with a bland face, and
witnessed the