to stay with me; but pain takes the place of
the pleasure I had anticipated.

_First Sunday in April._

To-day Philip was a living monument to the transforming power of love.
Very clean, very much combed and brushed and collared and tied, with a
large handkerchief, soaked in my cologne, held prominently in one hand,
and an expression as decorous and pious as any ever achieved by Geordie
Yonts, he sat in church the very picture of elegance, the real direction
of his thoughts being indicated by an occasional ardent glance across
the aisle, where Dilsey, fairer, more saint-like than ever, kept serious
eyes on the preacher. As I looked, I asked myself, Can this be the boy
who a few short months ago declined to perform the most rudimentary
rites of the toilet, gloried in tatters, declared that "when a man steps
in the door, looks flies up the chimley", denominated "polite" a
"lick-spittle", asserted that he would rather take off his hat to a cow
than a woman, and pronounced the story of his chivalric namesake a
"slander"?

[Illustration: "He sat in church the very picture of elegance, the real
direction of his thoughts indicated by an occasional ardent glance
across the aisle."]

This afternoon, however, came the grand climax. After the dish-washing,
the cottage boys and ten wash-girls came quietly over to the cottage
yard and seated themselves on back steps and walk. As Hen ran through to
join them I inquired, "What's going on?"

"Philip he's aiming to give a treat, and done axed all us boys and
wash-girls to it," he replied in an astonished voice, hurrying on. I,
too, remembering the consistent selfishness following upon the
declaration that "generous never put no bread in my belly", was
astonished. A few moments later I stepped to the open window and looked
out upon a surprising scene. Philip, as suave, knightly and beautiful as
his famous namesake could ever have been in the days when he sighed for
Stella and all other women for him, was passing around a large "poke" of
crackers, and another of brown sugar, and saying with graceful
flourishes and insistent politeness,

"Eat all you can, now, everybody,--I got more still when you git through
this. There, Jason, wait till the girls is helped,--ladies first,
son,--haint you got no manners? Take some, Nancy, eat a-plenty, Rosabel,
don't hold back, Narcissa, here's a good lump, Dilsey. Now, boys, pitch
in,--you little fellows, Iry, Hen, Jason, take your pick fi