e Mefodis'
church, en mah black en w'ite kitten ter Rickey Snydah, en--"

"I don't want your old tabby!" said the beneficiary unfeelingly. "Now
flatten out, while I give you the chloroform."

"All right, Doctah. Ah's in de free-ward en 'tain't costin' me er cent!
But Ah's mighty skeered Ah gwineter wake up daid! Gord A'mighty, ef Ah
dies, save mah sinful soul! Oh, Mars' Judge Jesus, swing dat cha'yut
down en kyah me up ter Hebben! Rickey, yo' reck'n, arter all, Ah's
gwineter be er _black_ angel? Hesh-sh! Ah's driftin' away, Doctah, Ah's
driftin' away on de big wide ribber."

"Now you're asleep," declared the surgeon, and fell to with a flourish
of the gory blade.

The other reared herself. "Huh! How yo' reck'n Ah's gwineter be ersleep
wid yo' chunkin' me in de shoht-ribs wid dat ar stick? Ain' yo' done
cyarvin' me up yet?"

"Oh, nurse," wailed Rickey, turning the drama into a new channel, "I
can't wake Greenie up! She won't come out of the chloroform! She's
dying. Let's all sing and maybe it'll make it easier:

"'I went down to Jordan and what did I see,
Coming for to carry me home?
A band of angels waiting for me,
Coming for to carry me home!'"

The melody, however, was too much for the prospective corpse. She sat
up, shook the dead leaves from her hair and joined in, swaying her lean
body to and fro and clapping her yellow-lined hands together in an
ecstasy:

"'Sweeng low! Sweet Char-ee-yut!
Comin' fo' t'kyah me ho-o-o-ome.
Swee-eng low, swee-et Char-ee-yut!
Comin' fo' t'kyah me home!'"

The two were a strange contrast as they sang, the negro child swaying
with the emotionalism of her race and her voice dropping instinctively
to a soft alto accompaniment to the other's rigid soprano, and lending
itself to subtle half-tones and minor cadences.

A twig snapped under Valiant's foot. The singers faced about and saw
them. Both scrambled to their feet, the black girl to look at them with
a wide self-conscious grin. Rickey, tossing her short hair back from her
freckled face, came toward them.

"My goodness, Miss Shirley," she said, "we didn't see you at all." She
looked at Valiant. "Are you the man that's going to fix up Damory
Court?" she inquired, without any tedious formalities.

"Yes," said Valiant.

"Well," she said critically, "you've got your job cut out for you. But I
should say you're the kind to do it."

"Rickey!" Shirley's voice tried to be stern