dge by all the colored people of the neighborhood. Pomp
glances up, then down the street, advances a few steps, admonishes the
young negroes, and exchanges bows with Cato, whom he regards as quite a
common brought-up negro compared with himself. Now he disappears, Cato
remarking to his companions that if he had Pomp's knowledge and learning
he would not thank anybody to make him a white man.

Presently there is a stir in the group: all eyes are turned up the road,
and the cry is, "Dare da comes." Two carriages approach at a rapid
speed, and haul up at the gate, to the evident delight and relief of the
younger members of the group, who close in and begin scattering sprigs
of laurel and flowers along the path, as two couple, in bridal dress,
alight, trip quickly through the garden, and disappear, Pomp bowing
them into the parsonage. Tom and Maria are the central figures of the
interesting ceremony about to be performed. Old Cato received a warm
press of the hand from Tom as he passed, and Cato returned the
recognition, with "God bress Mas'r Tom." A shadow of disappointment
deepened in his face as he saw the door closed, and it occurred to him
that he was not to be a witness of the ceremony. But the door again
opened, and Pomp relieved his wounded feelings by motioning with his
finger, and, when Cato had reached the porch, bowing him into the house.

And now we have reached the last scene in the picture. There, kneeling
before the altar in the parlor of that quaint old parsonage, are the
happy couple and their companions. The clergyman, in his surplice, reads
the touching service in a clear and impressive voice, while Pomp, in a
pair of antique spectacles, ejaculates the responses in a voice peculiar
to his race. Old Cato, kneeling before a chair near the door, follows
with a loud--Amen. There is something supremely simple, touching, and
impressive in the picture. As the closing words of the benediction fall
from the clergyman's lips, Maria, her pale oval face shadowed with that
sweetness and gentleness an innocent heart only can reflect, raises her
eyes upwards as if to return thanks to the Giver of all good for his
mercy and protection. As she did this a ray of light stole in at the
window and played softly over her features, like a messenger of love
come to announce a happy future. Just then the cup of her joy became
full, and tears, like gems of purest water, glistened in her eyes, then
moistened her pallid cheeks. Tru