a dozen times, and still he kept Carl's
potatoes hot for him, and the table waiting. For the old negro, though
he loved dearly to show his importance by making a good deal of bluster
about his work, had really one of the kindest hearts in the world, and
was as devoted to the boy he scolded as any indulgent old grandmother.

"The 'debil' will take you, sure enough, I'm afraid, Toby, if you appeal
to him so often," said a mildly reproving voice.

It was Mr. Villars, the old worn-out clergyman; a man of seventy
winters, pale, white-haired, blind, feeble of body, yet strong and
serene of soul. He came softly, groping his way into the kitchen, in
order to put his feet to Toby's fire.

"Laws, massa," said old Toby, grinning, "debil knows I ain't in 'arnest!
he knows better'n to take me at my word, for I speaks his name widout no
kind o' respec', allus, I does. Hyar's yer ol' easy char fur ye, Mass'
Villars. Now you jes' make yerself comf'table." And he cleared a place
on the stove-hearth for the old man's feet.

"Thank you, Toby." With his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, his
hands folded thoughtfully before his breast, and his beautiful old face
smiling the kindness which his blind eyes could not _look_, Mr. Villars
sat by the fire. "Where is Carl to-night, Toby?"

"Dat ar's de question; dat's de pint, massa. Mos' I can say is, he ain't
whar he ought to be, a eatin' ob his supper. Chocolate's all a bilin'
away to nuffin! ketch dis chile tryin' to keep tings hot for his supper
anoder time!" And Toby added, in a whisper expressive of great
astonishment at himself, "What I eber took dat ar boy to keep fur's one
ob de mysteries!"

For Toby, though only a servant (indeed, he had formerly been a slave in
the family), had had his own way so long in every thing that concerned
the management of the household, that he had come to believe himself the
proprietor, not only of the house and land, and poultry and pigs, but of
the family itself. He owned "ol' Mass Villars," and an exceedingly
precious piece of property he considered him, especially since he had
become blind. He was likewise (in his own exalted imagination) sole
inheritor and guardian-in-chief of "Miss Jinny," Mr. Villars's youngest
daughter, child of his old age, of whom Mrs. Villars said, on her
death-bed, "Take always good care of my darling, dear Toby!"--an
injunction which the negro regarded as a sort of last will and testament
bequeathing the girl to him