e village
children stopped in on the way from school for Mandy's new-made cookies,
she used her customary trick to get them away. "Tag--you're it!" she
cried, and then dashed out the back door, pursued by the laughing,
screaming youngsters. Mandy followed the children to the porch and stood
looking after them, as the mad, little band scurried about the back
yard, darted in and out amongst the trees, then up the side of the
wooded hill, just beyond the church.

The leaves once more were red and yellow on the trees, but to-day
the air was warm, and the children were wearing their summer dresses.
Polly's lithe, girlish figure looked almost tall by comparison with the
children about her. She wore a plain, simple gown of white, which Mandy
had helped her to make. It had been cut ankle-length, for Polly was now
seventeen. Her quaint, old-fashioned manner, her serious eyes, and her
trick of knotting her heavy, brown hair low on her neck, made her seem
older.

Mandy waited until the children had disappeared over the hill, then
began bustling about looking for the step-ladder which Hasty had left
under the vines of the porch. It had been a busy day at the parsonage. A
social always meant perturbation for Mandy. She called sharply to Hasty,
as he came down the path which made a short cut to the village:

"So's you'se back, is you?" she asked, sarcastically.

"Sure, I'se back," answered Hasty, good-naturedly, as he sank upon an
empty box that had held some things for the social, and pretended to
wipe the perspiration from his forehead.

"Masse John done send you to de post office two hours ago," said Mandy,
as she took the letters and papers from his hand. "Five minutes is
plenty ob time for any nigger to do dat job."

"I done been detained," Hasty drawled.

"You'se always 'tained when dar's any work a-goin' on," Mandy snapped at
him.

"Whar's Miss Polly?" Hasty asked, ignoring Mandy's reference to work.

"Nebber you mind 'bout Miss Polly. She don't want you. Jes' you done
fetch that step-ladder into de Sunday-school-room."

"But I wants her," Hasty insisted. "I'se been on very 'ticular business
what she ought to know 'bout."

"Business?" she repeated. "What kind ob business?"

"I got to fix de Sunday-school-room," said Hasty, as he perceived her
growing curiosity.

"You come heah, nigger!" Mandy called, determined that none of the
village doings should escape her. "Out wid it!"

"Well, it's 'bout de circus," Has