ur affairs."

"Nonsense!" was the contemptuous answer. "Phoebe's just a big, fat,
black, good-natured fool. It rests me to look at her--she's so much
fatter than I am."

With a shrug of her shoulders the dressmaker rose and rang for the
colored maid, who had just entered Mrs. Lincoln's service.

Phoebe walked in with a glorious smile lighting her dusky face. Seeing
her mistress lying down at the unusual hour of eleven o'clock in the
morning, she rushed to her side:

"Laws of mussy, Ma'am, ain't you well!"

"Just a little spell of nerves, Phoebe, something that never worries
your happy soul----"

"No, Ma'am, dat dey don't!" the black woman laughed.

"Hand me a pencil and pad of paper."

Phoebe executed her order with quick heavy tread, and stood looking
while her mistress scribbled a note to her husband.

"Take that to the President, and see that he comes."

Phoebe courtesied heavily:

"Yassam, I fetch him!"

The Hon. Salmon P. Chase, Secretary of the Treasury, was engaged with
the President when Phoebe presented herself at the door of the executive
office.

John Hay tried in vain to persuade her to wait _a_ few minutes. Phoebe
brushed the young diplomat aside with scant ceremony.

"G'way fum here, Boy!" she laughed. "Miss Ma'y sent me ter fetch 'im
right away. An' I gwine ter fetch 'im!"

She threw her ponderous form straight through the door and made for the
Chief Magistrate.

Mr. Chase was delivering an important argument, but it had no weight
with her.

She bowed and courtesied to the President.

"Excuse me, Governor," he said with a smile. "Good morning, Phoebe."

"Good mornin', sah."

She extended the note with a second dip of her ponderous form:

"Yassah, Miss Ma'y send dis here excommunication ter you, sah!"

"You don't say so?" the President cried, breaking into a laugh.

"Yassah."

"Then I'm excommunicated, Governor!" he nodded to Chase. "I must read
the edict." He adjusted his glasses and glanced at the note:

"Your mistress is lying down?"

"Yassah, she's sufferin' fum a little spell er nervous prosperity,
sah--dat's all--sah----"

"Oh, that's all?"

"Yassah."

The President roared with laughter, in which Phoebe joined.

"Thank you, Phoebe, tell her I'll be there in a minute----"

"Yassah."

"And Phoebe----"

The maid turned as she neared the door:

"Yassah?"

"I hope you'll always bring my messages from your mistress----"

"Yassah."

"I like you, Phoebe. Yo