ok yere, Mr. Starbuck, while
I'se gone to the pos' office don't you reckon you kin think up suthin'
fur me ter do?"

"How willing he is to work," Mrs. Mayfield sympathetically remarked.

Kintchin ducked his head at her. "W'y, Lawd bless yo' life, honey, I
doan know nuthin' else. One time not long ergo I foun' o' er mawnin' dat
I wuz monst'us tired, an' den I come ter fin' out dat I been er gittin'
up an' er workin' in my sleep. Yas'm."

He looked at Jasper, expecting something, and it came: "Was that the
time they found the ham under yo' bed?"

"Mr. Starbuck, whut you all de time come er talkin' datter way fur?
Ain't dar nuthin' in dis life ter talk erbout 'cept politics? Doan you
know you got er soul ter save? Doan you know dat de Lawd frown on
slander? I doan care fur myse'f but I hate ter see er good man fling
erway his chances o' de salvation. An' suthin' gwine happen ter you ef
you keeps on 'sposin' yo'se'f."

Starbuck good naturedly drove him out, clucking at him as if he were a
horse. Lou slowly folded the paper which she had been gazing at during
all this time and said: "Oh, you must let me keep this."

"It amounts to nothing," replied Tom, making a pretense of taking the
paper but permitting her to retain it. "I will write you something
prettier."

"No, I want this."

"She is beginning early to mistrust promises," remarked Mrs. Mayfield.

"Oh, she knows the world," said Mrs. Starbuck. "She went to school for
two years over at Dry Fork. That's where she l'arned to play that
melogian."

"Yes," Jasper spoke up, "and the fust time I hearn it I thought a tree
had fell on one of the calves. Why, helloa, mammy, come in. Lookin' fur
suthin'?"

"I must er lef' my old pipe yere summers," said the old negro woman,
coming into the room.

"Here it is," said Jasper taking a cob pipe from the mantle-piece and
giving it to her. "Won't you sit down, mammy? You look so tired."

"No, Mars Jasper, I hain't hardly got time." She looked at the company,
bade every one good morning, with a heart-felt "God bless you;" and
looking at Mrs. Mayfield, slowly advanced toward her, gazing at her
hand. "W'y, honey, I neber seed de like o' putty rings you's got on.
Da's like de speret o' light er wrappin' round yo' fingers."

"Mammy, they are but glittering memories."

"Yas'm, da do shine might'ly ef dat whut you means."

Tom and Lou were going out. "Don't stray off," said Mrs. Mayfield. "We
are going to the post office, yo