thinking of Harry Sikes, who had shaved him many a time for nothing. Then he suddenly called down to her:
"Have many died of the cholera? Are there many cases in town?"
She went on with her preparations and took no notice of him. He repeated the question. She got down quickly from the cart and began to mount the staircase. He went back to bed, pulled the sheet up over him, and propped himself up among the pillows. Her soft, heavy footsteps slurred on the stair-way as though her strength were failing, and as soon as she entered the room she sank into a chair, overcome with terror. He looked at her with a sudden sense of pity.
"Don't be frightened," he said, kindly. "It might only make it the worse for you."
"I can he'p it, honey," she answered, wringing her hands and rocking herself to and fro; "de ole niggah can' he'p it. If de Lohd jes spah me to git out'n dis town wid you! Honey, ain' you able to put on yo' clo'es?"
"You've tied them all up in the sheet."
"De Lohd he'p de crazy ole niggah!"
She started up and tugged at the bundle, and laid out a suit of his clothes, if things so incongruous could be called a suit.
"Have many people died of the cholera?"
"Dey been dyin' like sheep ev' since yestidd'y mohnin—all day, en all las' night, en dis mohnin'! De man he done lock up de huss, en dey been buryin' 'em in cyarts. En de grave-diggah he done run away, en hit look like d' ain' nobody to dig de graves."
She bent over the bundle, tying again the four cor-
