t on toward the chairs clustered in
inviting comfort beneath the trees. But the grass and they were still
wet, so he began strolling around the tanbark circle, following paths
and brushing through dew-bathed spider webs stretched like spun glass
across his way.

The picturesque old peach orchard was a wealth of blushing fruit,
dropping from the over-weighted branches into a carpet of red clover. He
went in here, and came out with his teeth buried in a luscious
peach--leaning forward and wanting to laugh as its juice trickled over
his chin. For not only were his hands occupied with other peaches, but
he was pressing tightly beneath one arm a tin cylinder, three feet long
and several inches in diameter. This was the thing Zack first noticed
when that worthy appeared some half hour later.

"Good mawnin', Marse Brent," he bowed. "It sho'ly do look good to see
you down so fresh an' early! What's dat cu'ious lookin' thing you got
dar?"

"It's a lay-over-to-catch-meddlers, Uncle Zack."

"A lay over to do which?" he squinted.

"It has a present in it," Brent laughed. "Give me a match!"

He lit a cigarette, and the old fellow watched with a fond expression
which gradually drew up into a tangle of wrinkles.

"Doesn' you want me to fetch you a li'l julep fer a mawnin'-mawnin'?
It'll make yoh breakfas' set mighty good arter all dem peaches, an' I
ain' fixed you none for--why, it must be moh'n a month!"

"No, you old sinner, I'm through with your mawnin'-mawnin's; and if you
bring any around I'll take you to the grindstone!"

Uncle Zack stroked his jaw and grinned.

"Sho! Dat ain' gwine do me no hahm now, 'caze mah onlies' toof's done
drapped out."

"Then I'll get Miss Liz after you!"

"Lawd, Marse Brent," the old fellow grew serious, "you knows she ain'
turr'ble no moh! She's jest as meller as dem peaches, an' only las' week
give me a dollar 'caze I hadn' cyarried de Cunnel but one julep dat
day!"

"Is the Colonel getting up?"

"Naw, sah, he ain' budged. He say he sleepin' better'n he uster."

"Zack, do you want to ride over to Mister Bob's for me before
breakfast?"

"You knows I do--'foh breakfas', an' arter breakfas'!"

"Then get your mule--I'll have something for you to take."

While Zack was hurrying to the stables, Brent walked excitedly to the
garden to pick a bouquet of flowers; but, although there were thousands
of blossoms from which to choose, their selection seemed a most
difficult problem. More d