plantation, Mr. Pier--you cert'n'y has. An' I wants to thank you bofe
mos' kindly--I cert'n'y does."

Having heard this much, 'Pollo thought it time to come from his hiding,
and he strolled leisurely out in the other direction first, but soon
returned this way. And then he stopped, and, reaching over, took the
feather fan--and for a few moments he had his innings. Then some one
else came along and the conversation became impersonal, and one by one
they all dropped off--all except 'Pollo. When the rest had gone, he and
Lily found seats on the cane carrier, and they talked a while, and when
a little later supper was announced, it was the proud fiddler who took
her in, while Pierre and Peters stood off and politely glared at each
other; and after a while Pierre must have said something, for Peters
suddenly sprang at him and tumbled him out the door and rolled him over
in the dirt, and they had to be separated. But presently they laughed
and shook hands, and Pierre offered Pete a cigarette, and Pete took it,
and gave Pierre a light--and it was all over.

It was next day--Christmas morning--and the young people were standing
about in groups under the China-trees in the campus, when Apollo joined
them, looking unusually chipper and beaming. He was dressed in his
best--Prince Albert, beaver, and all--and he sported a bright silk
handkerchief tied loosely about his neck.

He was altogether a delightful figure, absolutely content with himself,
and apparently at peace with the world. No sooner had he joined the
crowd than the fellows began chaffing him, as usual, and presently some
one mentioned Lily's name and spoke of her presents. The two men who
had broken the record for generosity in the history of plantation
lovers were looked upon as nabobs by those of lesser means. Of course
everybody knew the city fellow had started it, and they were glad that
Peters had come to time and saved the dignity of the place; indeed, he
was about the only one on the plantation who could have done it.

As they stood talking it over, the two heroes had nothing to say, of
course, and 'Pollo began rolling a cigarette--an art he had learned from
the man from New Orleans.

Finally, he remarked, "Yas, Miss Lily got sev'al mighty nice presents
last night."

At this Pierre turned, laughing, and said, "I s'pose you geeve 'er
somet'ing, too, eh?"

"Pity you hadn't a-give her dat silk hank'cher. Hit 'd become her a
heap better'n it becomes you," P