o speak to him, except in a
case of emergency.

The boat reached the pier, and was brought alongside the landing steps,
in a style that was above criticism. Poor Cyd was disgusted and
indignant at the idea of having his day spoiled in this capricious
manner. If he had been born under the free skies of New England, he
would, no doubt, have remonstrated; but his social position and the
discipline of the boat did not permit him to utter even a word of
disapprobation. But Cyd was needlessly disturbed in the present
instance, for his lordly master had no intention of abandoning the
cruise, though if he had been so condescending as to say so when he
ordered the Edith to return, he would have saved her crew all the bitter
pangs of disappointment which they had endured during the retrograde
passage.

"Cyd!" said Master Archy, when the boat came up to the steps, and the
rowers had tossed their oars.

"Sar!" replied Cyd, exploding the word as though he had been a member of
Monsieur Crapeau's class in French elementary sounds, and with a start
which seemed to shake every fibre in his wiry frame.

"Do you know where my boxing gloves are?"

"Yes, Massa Archy; in de gym-shum," answered Cyd, again exhibiting his
ivories, for the case began to look slightly hopeful.

"In the what?" demanded Archy, a languid smile appearing upon his face.

"In de gym-shum," said Cyd, taking advantage of this faint smile, and
exploding the two syllables with all the vigor of a pair of healthy
lungs.

"In the gymnasium, you black rascal!"

"Yes, Massa Archy, dem's um----in de gym----shum. Dat's jes what I say,
massa----in de gym-shum."

"Go up and get them; and mind you don't keep me waiting all day,"
continued Archy, who was not equal to the effort of making the boy
pronounce the word correctly.

Cyd darted off with a speed that promised the best results.

"I feel stupid to-day, and I think a bout with the gloves will do me
good," yawned Archy, with a hideous gape, as he stretched himself at
full length upon the velvet cushions, with his feet hanging out over the
water.

"Perhaps it would, sir," replied Dandy, to whom the remark was supposed
to be addressed.

"We will go down to Green Point," added he.

"Yes, sir."

The conversation ended here, the young magnate of Redlawn closing his
eyes and gaping by turns for the next ten minutes, till Cyd, puffing
like a grampus, appeared on the steps.

"Here's de glubs, Massa Archy," said he