while with absent-minded haste he tore open the envelopes of his business correspondence and, with sudden and unaccountable pauses, as if he had lost the thread of his thought, gave directions to the clerks who came to receive his orders. A few moments

after Hanson's departure, Mr. Dimpleton, without taking the slightest notice of Bodill as he passed, called for his carriage and drove away, and about two hours later, a messenger boy handed him a note from Miss Jessie, in which she announced, in the most coldly formal manner, that she would be obliged henceforth to discontinue her Homeric studies, and that she would accordingly make no further demand upon his valuable time. About three o'clock in the afternoon, the head of the firm returned and sent a clerk to Quintus's desk, requesting that Mr. Bodill would favor him with a moment's interview. The door of the private office was carefully locked when he had entered, and Mr. Dimpleton, with an icy solemnity which seemed to make a perceptible change in the temperature of the room, motioned him to a chair and seated himself on the lounge opposite.

"I offered you a partnership in this firm, Mr. Bodill," he began, abruptly, "under the impression that you were a man of excellent habits and character- a Christian man and a man of honor. This firm, sir, has always prided itself on the blameless Christian character of its members. Now, I am well aware that, from the Old World point of view, the offense of which you have been guilty is a venial one, and would there probably not interfere seriously with your social standing

"And perhaps, sir," interrupted Quintus, springing to his feet, while his face burned with indignation, "you will have the kindness to inform me of what offense I have been guilty?"

"I had a higher respect for you than that, Mr. Bodill," retorted Mr. Dimpleton, in a slightly impatient tone, as if to say that it was of no use to contest his facts, which were beyond dispute. "Then you plead ignorance of your guilt, do you? Well, sir, to a gentleman of your principles, very likely, it does not assume the character of guilt. But, since you insist upon it, I have no objection to informing you that I refer to the fact that, although unmarried, you have a daughter, as I am told, nearly sixteen years old. And, knowing well how my family and I would look upon this circumstance, you have carefully guarded

| your tongue, and never in our presence made the faintest allusion to her existence." "And who told you, sir, that I have a daughter?" inquired Quintus, now no longer in anger, but with calm disdain.

"It is of no consequence who told me. However, if it can gratify you to know, it was a man who has every means of knowing your life, both previous to your arrival in this country and after. I need not say that I refer to Mr. Hanson."

"And did Mr. Hanson tell you that Tita was my daughter?" cried Quintus, opening his eyes wide in astonishment.

"He said he had not the slightest doubt that she was your daughter, and that you had been compelled to leave home. Your father, he said, is very irascible, but it is needless to recount what you know so well. Moreover, he added a great deal of corroborative evidence which would make it useless for you to deny."

"In that case, Mr. Dimpleton," responded Quintus, with the utmost dignity, "I suppose it would be agreeable to youassuredly it would to me-if our business connection were dissolved, the sooner the better. If you can take the word of a former groom of my father's, who, moreover, offers you nothing but conjectures and impressions, and refuse even to hear my defense, then my respect for you suffers as severely as yours, according to your statement, has for me."

"I have anticipated this proposition," remarked the publisher, coolly, "and here is my check for the amount which is due to you as your share in the profits of the business."

Bodill, without even glancing at the check, put it in his pocket-book, and bowing stiffly took his leave. For several hours he sauntered aimlessly up one street and down another, rode from sheer weariness on the street cars to Central Park and back again to the City Hall, dined absentmindedly at a restaurant, and finally, before the accustomed hour for his return home had arrived, crossed the ferry to Jersey City. He feared to encounter Tita's questioning eyes, and sincerely hoped that her dignified mood of yesterday would prove something more than a fleeting caprice, as in that case he might succeed in fortifying his heart against compromising confessions. If Tita was stately, he might be distant, and they might avoid affectionate collisions which would inevitably lead, not to the revelation of the truth, for that

would have been impossible, but to much enforced and ingenious deception, which, to a conscientious man like Quintus, was scarcely less unpleasant. He had hardly entered his study, however, before he divined that the latter alternative would be presented to him. Tita, who was yet playing the Queen Titania (as Quintus had humorously designated her majestic rôle), no sooner discovered the look of weariness and trouble which shimmered through the hypocritical cheerfulness of his face than she forgot her studiously prepared part, and rushing forward, became once more the old vehement, childish, and adorable Tita.

"Quint, Quint," she cried; "what have they been doing to you? And to-night is your Homeric evening, too. And yet you come home so early. Has Miss Dimpleton been bad to you, Quint? I never shall like her if she has."

"No, child," he answered, taking the lovely face between his hands and kissing it. "I am only a little tired, and would like a long, peaceful smoke."

"But you can't have it, Quint," persisted Tita, giving her head a decisive little shake, and looking, with her hair drawn over her forehead, like a determined little Shetland pony who is conscious that its perversity is not altogether unbecoming. "Something has gone wrong to-day, and you will have no peace until I know what it is."

But Quintus would only give her fables for facts, and she retired with the conviction that Quintus had proposed to Miss Dimpleton and had been refused. But what a monster Miss Dimpleton must be, to refuse Quintus! In her indignation at such iniquity, Tita even forgot to congratulate herself upon the removal of a dangerous rival. She felt too sad on Quintus's account to be glad on her own.

XI.

HOW MR. ROOSTER LOST HIS DINNER.

THE afternoon wore on and the rain continued to fall. In some mysterious way, as it seemed to the little boy, the gloom of twilight fastened itself upon the dusky clouds, and the great trees without, and the dismal perspective beyond, gradually became one with the darkness. Uncle Remus had thoughtfully placed a tin pan under a leak in the roof, and the drip-drip-drip of the water, as it fell in the resonant vessel, made a not unmusical accompaniment to the storm.

The old man fumbled around under his bed and presently dragged forth a large bag filled with lightwood knots, which, with an instinctive economy in this particular direction, he had stored away for an emergency. A bright but flickering flame was the result of this timely discovery, and the effect it produced was quite in keeping with all the surrounding. The rain, and wind, and darkness held sway without, while within, the unsteady lightwood blaze seemed to rhyme with the drip-drip-drip in the pan. Sometimes the shadow of Uncle Remus, as he leaned over the hearth, would tower and fill the cabin, and again, it would fade and disappear among the swaying and swinging cobwebs that curtained the rafters. "W'en bed-time come, honey," said Uncle Remus, in a soothing tone, "I'll des snatch down yo' pa buggy umbrell' fum up dar in de cornder, en I'll take'n' take you und' my arm en set you down on Miss Sally h'a'th des ez dry en ez wom ez a rat'-nes' inside a fodder-stack."

At this juncture, Tildy, the house-girl, rushed in out of the rain and darkness with a water-proof cloak and an umbrella, and announced her mission to the little boy without taking time to catch her breath.

"Miss Sally say you gotter come right 'long," she exclaimed. "Kaze she skeered lightnin' gwine strike 'roun' in yer 'mongs' deze high trees some'r's."

Uncle Remus rose from his stooping posture in front of the hearth and assumed a threatening attitude.

Lawdy! w'at I done gone en done ter Unk' Remus, now?" asked "Tildy, with a great affectation of innocent ignorance.

"I'm gwineter put on my coat en take dat ar umbrell', en I'm gwine right straight up ter de big house en ax Miss Sally ef she sont dat kinder wud down yer, w'en she know dat chile sittin' yere 'longer me. I'm gwineter ax her," continued Uncle Remus, "en ef she aint sont dat wud, den I'm gwineter fetch myse'f back. Now, you des watch my motions."

"Well, I year Miss Sally say she 'feard lightnin' gwineter strike some'r's on de place," said 'Tildy, in a tone which manifested her willingness to compromise all differences, "en den I axt 'er kin I come down yer, en den she say I better bring deze yer cloak en pairsol."

"Now you dun brung um," responded Uncle Remus, "you des better put um in dat cheer over dar, en dat cheer over dar, en take yo'se'f off. Thunner mighty ap' ter hit close ter whar deze yer slick-head niggers is."

But the little boy finally prevailed upon the old man to allow 'Tildy to remain, and after a while he put matters on a peace footing by inquiring if roosters crowed at night when it was raining.

"Dat dey duz," responded Uncle Remus. "Wet er dry, dey flops der wings en wakes up all de neighbors. Law, bless my soul!" he exclaimed, suddenly, "w'at make I done gone en fergit 'bout Mr. Rooster!"

"What about him?" inquired the little boy.

"One time, 'way back yunder," said Uncle Remus, knocking the ashes off his hands and knees, "dey wuz two plantations right 'longside er wunner n'er, en on bofe er deze plantations wuz a whole passel er fowls. Dey wuz mighty sociable in dem days, en it tu'n out dat de fowls on one plantation gun a party, w'ich dey sont out der invites ter de fowls on de 't'er plantation.

"W'en de day come, Mr. Rooster, he

blow his hawn, he did, en 'semble um all tergedder, en atter dey 'semble dey got in line. Mr. Rooster, he tuck de head, en atter 'im come ole lady Hen en Miss Pullet, en den dar wuz Mr. Peafowl, en Mr. Tukkey Gobbler, en Miss Guinny Hen, en Miss Puddle Duck, en all de balance un um. Dey start off sorter raggedy, but 'twa'n't long 'fo' dey all kotch de step, en den dey march down by de spring, up thoo de hoss-lot en 'cross by de gin-house, en 'twa'n't long 'fo' dey git ter whar de frolic

wuz.

"Dey dance, en dey play, en dey sing. Mo' 'speshually did dey play en sing dat ar song w'ich it run on like dis:

"Come under, come under,

My honey, my love, my own true love; My heart bin a-weepin'

'Way down in Galilee.'

"Dey wuz gwine on dis away, havin' der 'musements, w'en, bimeby, ole Mr. Peafowl, he got on de comb er de barn en blow de dinner-hawn. Dey all wash der face en han's in de back-po'ch, en den dey went in ter dinner. W'en dey git in dar, dey don't see nothin' on de table but a great big pile er co'n-bread. De pones was pile up on pones, en on de top wuz a great big ashcake. Mr. Rooster, he look at dis en he tu'n up his nose, en bimeby, atter w'ile, out he strut. Ole Miss Guinny Hen, she watchin' Mr. Rooster motions, en w'en she see dis, she take'n' squall out, she did:

"Pot-rack! pot-rack! Mr. Rooster gone back! Pot-rack! pot-rack! Mr. Rooster gone back!'

"Wid dat dey all make a great ter-do. Miss Hen en Miss Pullet, dey cackle en squall, Mr. Gobbler, he gobble, en Miss Puddle Duck, she shake 'er tail en say quickity-quack. But Mr. Rooster, he ruffle up his cape, en march on out.

"Dis sorter put a damper on de yuthers, but fo' Mr. Rooster git outer sight en year'n' dey went ter wuk on de pile w'at wuz 'pariently co'n-bread, en, lo en beholes, un'need dem pone er bread wuz a whole passel er meat en greens, en bake' taters, en bile' turnips. Brer Rooster, he year de ladies makin' great 'miration, en he stop en look thoo de crack, en dar he see all de doin's en fixin's. He feel mighty bad, Mr. Rooster did, w'en he see all dis, en de yuther fowls dey holler en axt 'im fer ter come back, en his craw, likewise, it up'n' ax 'im, but he mighty biggity en stuck up, en he strut off, crowin' ez he go; but de VOL. XXII.-48.

'speunce er dat time done las' him en all er his fambly down ter dis day. En you neenter take my wud for't, ne'r, kaze ef you'll des keep yo' eye open en watch, you'll kitch a glimpse er old Mr. Rooster folks scratchin' whar dey specks ter fine der rations, en mor'n dat, dey'll scratch wid der rations in plain sight. Sence dat time, dey aint none er de Mr. Roosters bin fool' by dat w'at dey see on top. Dey aint res' twel dey see w'at und' dar. Dey'll scratch spite er all creation."

"Dat's de Lord's truth!" said 'Tildy, with unction. "I done seed um wid my own eyes. Dat I is."

This was 'Tildy's method of renewing peaceful relations with Uncle Remus, but the old man was disposed to resist the attempt.

"You better be up yander washin' up dishes, stidder hoppin' down yer wid er whole packet er stuff w'at Miss Sally aint dreamp er sayin'."

XII.

MR. RABBIT BREAKS UP A LUNCH-PARTY.

AS LONG as Uncle Remus allowed 'Tildy to remain in the cabin, the little boy was not particularly interested in preventing the perfunctory abuse which the old man might feel disposed to bestow upon the complacent girl. The truth is, the child's mind was occupied with the episode in the story of Mr. Benjamin Ram which treats of the style in which this romantic old wag put Mr. and Mrs. Wolf to flight by playing a tune upon his fiddle. The little boy was particularly struck with this remarkable feat, as many a youngster before him had been, and he made bold to recur to it again by asking Uncle Remus for all the details. It was plain to the latter that the child regarded Mr. Ram as the typical hero of all the animals, and this was by no means gratifying to the old man. He answered the little boy's questions as well as he could, and, when nothing more remained to be said about Mr. Ram, he settled himself back in his chair and resumed the curious history of Brother Rabbit:

"Co'se Mr. Ram mighty smart man. I aint 'spute dat; but needer Mr. Ram ner yet Mr. Lam is soon creeturs like Brer Rabbit. Mr. Benjermun Ram, he tuck'n' skeer off Brer Wolf en his ole 'oman wid his fiddle, but, bless yo' soul, ole Brer Rabbit he gone en done wuss'n dat."

"What did Brother Rabbit do?" asked the little boy.

"One time," said Uncle Remus, "Brer Fox, he tuck'n' ax some er de yuther creeturs ter his house. He ax Brer B'ar, en Brer Wolf, en Brer 'Coon, but he aint ax Brer Rabbit. All de same, Brer Rabbit got win' un it, en he 'low dat ef he don't go, he speck he have much fun ez de nex' man.

"De creeturs w'at git de invite, dey tuck'n' 'semble at Brer Fox house, en Brer Fox, he ax um in en got um cheers, en dey sot dar en laugh en talk, twel, bimeby, Brer Fox, he fotch out a bottle er dram en lay 'er out on de side-bode, en den he sorter step back en say, sezee:

"Des step up, gentermens, en he'p yo'se'f,' en you better b'lieve dey he'p derse'f.

"W'iles dey wuz drinkin' en drammin' en gwine on, w'at you speck Brer Rabbit doin'? You des well make up yo' min' dat Brer Rabbit monst'us busy, kaze he 'uz sailin' 'roun' fixin' up his tricks. Long time 'fo' dat, Brer Rabbit had bin at a bobbycue whar dey wuz a muster, en w'iles all de folks 'uz down at de spring eatin' dinner, Brer Rabbit he crope up en run off wid wunner de drums. Dey wuz a big drum en a little drum, en Brer Rabbit, he snatch up de littles' one en run home.

"Now, den, w'en he year 'bout de yuther creeturs gwine ter Brer Fox house, w'at do Brer Rabbit do but git out dis rattlin' drum en make his way down de road todes whar dey is. He tuck dat drum," continued Uncle Remus, with great elation of voice and manner, 66 en he went down de road todes Brer Fox house, en he make 'er talk like thunner mix up wid hail. dis:

Hit talk like

"Diddybum, diddybum, diddybum-bumbum-diddybum!'

"De creeturs, dey 'uz a-drinkin', en adrammin', en a-gwine on at a terrible rate, en dey aint year de racket, but, all de same, yer come Brer Rabbit:

"Diddybum, diddybum, diddybum-bumbum-diddybum!'

"Bimeby Brer 'Coon, w'ich he allers got one year hung out fer de news, he up'n' ax Brer Fox w'at dat, en by dat time all de creeturs stop en lissen ; but, all de same, yer come Brer Rabbit:

"Diddybum, diddybum, diddybum-bumbum-diddybum!'

"De creeturs dey keep on lis'nin', en Brer Rabbit keep on gittin' nigher, twel, bimeby, Brer 'Coon reach under de cheer fer his hat, en say, sezee:

"Well, gents, I speck I better be gwine. I tole my ole 'oman dat I wont be gone a minnit, en yer 'tis 'way 'long in de day.'

"Wid dat Brer 'Coon, he skip out, but he aint git much fudder dan de back gate, 'fo' yer come all de yuther creeturs like dey 'uz runnin' a foot-race, en ole Brer Fox wuz wukkin' in de lead."

"Dar, now!" exclaimed 'Tildy, with great fervor.

"Yasser! dar dey wuz, en dar dey went," continued Uncle Remus. "Dey tuck nigh cuts, en dey scramble over wunner n'er, en dey aint res' twel dey git in de bushes.

"Ole Brer Rabbit, he came on down de road-diddybum, diddybum, diddybum-bumbum-en bless gracious! w'en he git ter Brer Fox house dey aint nobody dar. Brer Rabbit is dat owdacious, dat he hunt all 'roun' twel he fine de a'r-hole er de drum, en he put his mouf ter dat en sing out, sezee:

"Is dey anybody home?' en den he answer hisse'f, sezee: 'Law, no, honeyfolks all gone.'

"Wid dat, ole Brer Rabbit break loose en laugh, he did, fit ter kill hisse'f, en den he slam Brer Fox front gate wide open, en march up ter de house. W'en he git dar, he kick de do' open en hail Brer Fox, but nobody aint dar, en Brer Rabbit he walk in en take a cheer, en make hisse'f at home wid puttin' his foots on de sofy en spittin' on de flo'.

"Brer Rabbit aint sot dar long 'fo' he ketch a whiff er de dram

"You year dat?" exclaimed 'Tildy, with convulsive admiration.

"Fo' he ketch a whiff er de dram, en den he see it on de side-bode, en he step up en drap 'bout a tumbeler full some'rs down in de neighb'oods er de goozle. Brer Rabbit mighty like some folks I knows. He tuck one tumbeler full, en 'twa'n't long 'fo' he tuck 'n'er'n, en w'en a man do dis away," continued Uncle Remus, somewhat apologetically, "he bleedz ter git drammy."

"Truth, too!" said "Tildy, by way of hearty confirmation.

"All dis time de yuther creeturs wuz down in de bushes lissenin' fer de diddybum, en makin' ready fer ter light out fum dar at de drop uv a hat. But dey aint year no mo' fuss, en bimeby Brer Fox, he say he gwine back en look atter his plunder, en de yuther creeturs say dey b'leeve dey'll go 'long wid 'im. Dey start out, dey did, en dey crope todes Brer Fox house, but dey crope mighty keerful, en I boun' ef somebody'd 'a' shuck a bush, dem ar creeturs 'ud