e a gemmen, comed out wid a whip in his hand and says as how he's
'bliged to 'nounce anudder gal in Miss Polly's place. An' den he says
as how de udder gal was jes' as good, an' den everybody look disappinted
like, an' den out comes de udder gal on a hoss an' do tricks, an' I
ain't heard no more 'bout Miss Polly."

"Why didn't you done ask somebody?"

"Warn't nobody ter ask but de man what wuz hurryin' ever'body to get
out of de tent. I done ast him, but he say as 'didn't I git ma money's
worth?' an' den ebberbody laugh, an' he shove me 'long wid de rest of de
folks, an' here I is."

"She's sick, dat's what _I_ says," Mandy declared, excitedly; "an'
somebody's got to do somethin'!"

"I done all I knowed," drawled Hasty, fearing that Mandy was regretting
her twenty-five-cent investment.

"Go 'long out an' fix up dat ere kitchen fire," was Mandy's impatient
reply. "I got to keep dem vittels warm fer Massa John."

She wished to be alone, so that she could think of some way to get hold
of Polly. "Dat baby-faced mornin'-glory done got Mandy all wobbly 'bout
de heart," she declared to herself, as she crossed to the window for a
sight of the pastor.

It was nearly dark when she saw him coming slowly down the path from the
hill. She lighted the study-lamp, rearranged the cushions, and tried to
make the room look cheery for his entrance. He stopped in the hall and
hung up his hat. There was momentary silence. Would he shut himself in
his room for the night, or would he come into the study? At last the
door opened and Mandy hastened to place a chair for him.

"Ah's 'fraid you'se mighty tired," she said.

"Oh, no," answered Douglas, absently.

"Mebbe you'd like Mandy to be sarvin' your supper in here to-night. It's
more cheerfuller."

The side-showman was already beginning his spiel in the lot below. The
lemonade venders{sic} and the popcorn sellers were heard crying their
wares. Douglas did not answer her. She bustled from the room, declaring
"she was jes' goin' ter bring him a morsel."

He crossed to the window and looked out upon the circus lot. The flare
of the torches and the red fire came up to meet his pale, tense face.
"How like the picture of thirteen months ago," he thought, and old
Toby's words came back to him--"The show has got to go on."

Above the church steeple, the moon was battling its way through the
clouds. His eyes travelled from heaven to earth. There was a spirit
of unreality in it all. Somet