t the breaking-up would be a wrench; but it was worse than
he had expected, for their roots were deep in the old soil. Old friends,
when they said good-by, wrung his hand with the faces men wear when
they take a last look at a friend's face. The parting with the mammy was
especially bitter. It brought the break-up home as few things had done.
And when Mr. and Mrs. Graeme reached their new home with its strange
surroundings, her absence made it all the stranger.

The change in the servants marked the change in the life. The family
found it hard to reconcile themselves to it. Mrs. Graeme had always been
accustomed to the old servants, who were like members of the family,
and to find her domestics regarding her as an enemy or as their prey
disturbed and distressed her.

"You are going to try colored servants?" asked one of her new friends in
some surprise.

"Oh, yes, I am quite used to them."

"Well.--Perhaps--but I doubt if you are used to these."

Mrs. Graeme soon discovered her mistake. One after another was tried and
discarded. Those who knew nothing remained until they had learned enough
to be useful and then departed, while those who knew a little thought
they knew everything and brooked no direction. And all were insolent.
With or without notice the dusky procession passed through the house,
each out-goer taking with her some memento of her transient stay.

"I do not know what is the matter," sighed Mrs. Graeme. "I always
thought I could get along with colored people; but somehow these are
different. Why is it, Cabell!"

"Spoiled," said her husband, laconically. "The mistake was in the
emancipation proclamation. _Domestic_ servants ought to have been
excepted."

His humor, however, did not appeal to his wife. The case was too
serious.

"The last one I had told me, that if I did not like what she called
coffee--and which I really thought was tea--I 'd better cook for myself.
And that other maid, after wearing one of my best dresses, walked off
with a brand-new waist. I am only standing the present one till Mammy
comes. She says she likes to be called 'Miss Johnson.'"

"_I_ paid twenty dollars last week for the privilege of chucking a dusky
gentleman down the steps; but I did not begrudge it," said her husband,
cheerfully. "The justice who imposed the fine said to me afterward that
the only mistake I had made was in not breaking his neck."

*****

At last, old Caesar was gathered to his dusky fathers, a