formerly occupied reposed a remarkably plump and dimpled representative of the Colonel. When respectfully addressed he was called Jim, but he was more familiarly known as Baby.
A small negress from beyond the Zahara, and blacker than any coal, rocked Jim violently. For this—not the rocking, but the violence—she had been unavailingly rebuked by Mrs. Langley, until that lady's heart had nearly lost all hope.
"There—you have done it again, Zubby," said Mrs. Langley, referring to a push that well-nigh rolled Master Jim (as a sea-captain once said) out at the starboard side of the cradle.
Zubby confessed her guilt by looking abashed—and what a solemn look an abashed one is in a negress with very large eyes!—as well as by rocking more gently.
Agnes vented a sudden little laugh at the expression of Zubby's face; and, the door opening at that moment, Colonel Langley entered the court, and sat down beside his wife under the giant leaves of a small banana-tree, whose life was drawn from a boxful of earth about three feet square.
"My dear," said the Colonel, "I have two rather amusing things to lay before you this evening. One is a gift from the Dey, the other is a letter. Which will you have first?"
"The gift, of course," replied the lady.
