nor white; she's a brown girl with straight black hair that wavies when you brush it."

"It seemed to Adelaide that it held a whole bushel of fried chicken and biscuits"

"Why, of course," said John Bell; "I'd know her anywhere. I was afraid, once or twice, that I'd put out her eye with my whip-lash."

"Oh, did you really see Cally-Lou?" cried Adelaide, with an ecstatic smile.

"Didn't you hear what he said about the vittles?" remarked Mr. Sanders. "Do you think he'd 'a' said that ef he'd 'a' seed only us three? I'll say this much for John Bell before I eat all his chicken an' biscuits—he's nuther stingy ner greedy. Now, then," he went on, "jest shet you eyes, an' grab, bekaze the one that grabs the quickest will git that big hind leg there. My goodness! I can shet my eyes an' see it!" Whereupon Mr. Sanders and John Bell closed their eyes, and reached into the basket, and one drew a back and a biscuit, and the other grabbed a neck and a biscuit. "We dassent shet our eyes any more," remarked Mr. Sanders, "bekaze if we do, Cally-Lou will git all the chicken!"

Talk about picnics or barbecues, or parties where you have to wear your best clothes, or receptions where you have tea-cakes and ice-cream! Why, this banquet on top of the stage-coach, where no strange person could look over your shoulder, and no one tell you not to eat with your fingers, and not to tuck your napkin under your chin, like—like I don't know what—why, it was just simply a true fairy story, not one of the make-believe kind—the kind that grows out of the weariness of invention.

The feast was over much too soon, though all had had much more than was good for them. John Bell covered the treasure basket with a towel, and stowed it away in the big hollow place under the seat; then he beckoned to a negro who was helping with the horses. "Run down to the spring and fetch us some water, and be certain to get it out of the north side of the spring, where it is cold and sweet." The negro did this in a jiffy, and such water Adelaide had never before tasted. There was a whole bucketful, too. When they had all drunk their fill, Adelaide looked at Mr. Sanders and John Bell with a frown. "What can we do for you now, ma'am?" Mr. Sanders asked.

"Why, I want you to turn your heads away. Cally-Lou says she is nearly famished for water, and she won't drink when any one is looking."

All this being done, everybody was ready to go. Mr. Sanders got in the stage, declaring that he must have his own warm place, John Bell took the reins that were handed to him by the hostlers, gave a harmless swish with his long whip, and away they went to Shady Dale. It was all so strange, and so pleasant that Adelaide could have wished the journey to continue indefinitely. But after a while, the houses they passed became larger and more numerous, and then the stage-coach made its appearance on the public square that was one of the features of Shady Dale. It rolled and swung toward the old tavern, and just when Adelaide thought that John Bell was going to drive right into the house for her benefit, he gave a little twist to his wrist, and the leaders swung around. Even then it seemed that they would assuredly run headlong into the big mulberry tree, and trample to death the man who was leaning against it in a chair; but just as the leader was about to plant his forefeet in the man's bosom, John Bell sent another signal down the tightly held reins, and the leaders swung around until the child could look right into their tired faces. And, oh, the thrill of it! Adelaide felt that she could just hug John Bell, but the man who had made such a narrow escape from the horses' feet had an entirely different view of the matter.

"You shorely must be tryin' to show off," he growled to John Bell; "an' what for, I'd like to know? The next time you kill me, I'll have the law on you!"

"Quite so," remarked John Bell, with a grin that showed his white teeth. "But I want you to know that I've got company; let folks that ain't got company look out for themselves! Have you seen Mr. Jonas Whipple around here?"

"You don't want to run over old Jonas, do you?" replied the man. "All I've got to say is, jest try it! Old Jonas is a lot tougher than what I am."

"I'd run over him in a minnit if it would give my company any pleasure," said John Bell. "I've got a package for him that come all the way from Atlanta, an' I reckon the best thing to do is to take it right straight to his house. It's wropped in cloth, an' he's got to give me a receipt for it!"

"Oh, I know!" cried Adelaide, pouting a little; "you are talking about me!"

"Drive on!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, who was sitting on the inside of the stage-coach. "I'll have my ride out ef I have to set in here ontell to-morrer."

"Quite so!" exclaimed John Bell, and with that, he signalled the leaders, all the other passengers having got out by this time, and in less than no time the coach was whirling in the direction of old Jonas Whipple's house.

I'd like to show you how the neighbours came to their doors and stared; I can't describe it on paper, but if you were sitting where you could see my motions and gestures you'd laugh until you cried. The way the horses swept down that long red hill, leading from the tavern to old Jonas's, was assuredly a sight to see; and not only the neighbours saw it. Old Jonas saw it, and Lucindy saw it, too. Lucindy tried hard to be two persons that day; she'd look at old Jonas and frown, and then she'd look at the stage-coach and smile all over her face. She was mad on one side and glad on the other—mad because old Jonas wasn't as excited as she was, and glad because the child was coming. But old Jonas had a very good reason for his lack of excitement; he had such a cold that he could hardly talk for coughing, and such a bad cough that he could hardly cough for wheezing. And before he would come to the door, he wrapped his neck in a piece of red flannel. He tried to smile when he saw Adelaide waving her flower-like hand, and the smile came near strangling him. But Lucindy, the cook, was more than equal to the emergency; she whipped off her big apron and waved it up and down at arm's length, which was quite as hearty a welcome as any one would wish to have. I am sure that no one else ever received such a welcome at old Jonas's door. Up swept the stage, around it swung, and then, "All out for Whipple's Cross-roads!"

Mr. Sanders had his head out of the window, and saw Adelaide lift her lovely face and kiss John Bell. It must have been a great strain on John Bell to stoop so low, for when he straightened himself he was very red in the face.

"That," said Mr. Sanders, who was a close observer, "is the first time anybody has kissed John Bell since he was a baby. That's what makes him sweat so!"

"Much you know about such things," exclaimed John Bell, mopping his face with a red bandana. Nobody knows to this day how Lucindy managed to take the trunk from the boot of the stage, and place it in the veranda in time to run back and seize Adelaide and pull her through the window of the coach before any one could open the door. But such was the feat she performed in her excitement. Mr. Sanders appeared to be so surprised that he could do nothing but pucker up his face, pretending he was crying, and yell out: "Lucindy's took Miss Adelaide, an' now who's gwine to take me out'n this stage. Ef you don't come an' git me, Jonas, I'll be took off by John Bell, an' you won't never see me no more!" Old Jonas looked at Mr. Sanders as if he were in a dream, and had not heard aright. Observing this, Mr. Sanders kept up the pretence, and he cried so loudly, and to such purpose, that the neighbours on each side of the street came running to their front doors to see what the trouble was. And then old Jonas became furiously angry.