alike. Then a tall mulatto took his late "partner" by the arm and made a hasty exit into the supper room. This was the signal for a general stampede for seats; but when the full glories of the scene impressed themselves upon the senses of the bewildered guests, each and all stood as if rooted to the spot, staring with eyes and mouth wide open at the unexpected grandeur.

At the head of the table stood Miss Myra herself. But such a Miss Myra! Accustomed to see her always in the latest style, they had, "up to date," never beheld her attired like this.

Solomon in all his glory, the lilies of the field in their beauty, were as nothing compared to her!

She wore a trained robe of richest ivory satin, elaborately trimmed with point lace; the dusky neck and arms shone like polished ebony against the glimmering sheen of the satin.

She stood perfectly silent for a moment, her head uplifted, and with a haughty smile upon her lips, did her utmost to impress these humble admirers with this transitory grandeur.

"Yes, it jis' is indeed Mis Holmes' weddin' dress, nuffin' else, you simpletons," she said calmly, as if announcing the most commonplace fact. "An' dis yeah is her linen, and dat's her coffee; and it's her silber, too," she added calmly, as she moved her hands here and there, pointing out the objects which she named. "But dat is nobody's business but mine; you uns has nuffin' to do but enjoy de good things I'se provided. Sit down, goosies, and let der feast proceed," she commanded in an imperious manner, and set the example by seating herself—with due regard for her long-trained gown—at the head of the table.

This proceeding elicited tumultuous applause, and from that moment until the gray dawn began to lighten the east, the fun was fast and furious.

Of all races in the world none can equal the African in its abandon of enjoyment. From the far-off homes of their ancestors, where the tropical sun forces vegetation into luxuriance and raises the blood to well-nigh fever heat, the negroes of the South have derived the power to live in and for the present only. "Foolish!" you say? Well, probably. Yet, after all, how much of human wretchedness results from either idle regrets for an unalterable past, or causeless care for an undiscoverable future? Be this as it may, at Miss Myra's Thanksgiving party shouts of laughter, bursts of negro melody, the shuffling of feet, all these sounds became more and more tumultuous as the night waned.

In the early morning dusky forms might have been seen entering many a back or side door in Rexville, and many a mistress complained that day of inattention to duty; but the darkies never told the secret of their all-night festivities.

For many and many a day the glories of Miss Heck's Thanksgiving party lingered in the minds and on the tongues of the favored guests.

Upon the return of the banker's wife, that worthy lady found all her belongings in the same condition, apparently, as when she left home. Miss Myra was shrewd enough to skillfully effect this result, and if ever her conscience troubled her in reference to her late "grand ball," she always quieted its qualms by saying: "What Mis Holmes don't know ain't gwine ter hurt her none! 'Tain't right ter be selfish in dis wurld noway! If der Lawd don't make no ekal division of things, why I'll jes have ter help, an' dat's all ther is about hit!"

It must have been at least a year after the occurrence before the banker's wife learned of the party at which her possessions had played so very conspicuous and magnificent a part; and by this time Miss Heck had left her employ, being maid of all work at the parsonage, and hence beyond all need of censure from outsiders, since it was perfectly evident that her reverend employer was trying