The Judge rose to his feet. He was thinking of green fields and boyish days, of the clear brook beyond the pasture, of the pair of honest black feet that had timed their pace to his. “Micajah!” There was a world of pathos in the tone. It mattered not if the whole of his little world was there to hear it—attorneys, clients, negroes, and all. “I’se comin’, Ole Marse!” The pitiful wail rang through the court-room, and the old slave, oblivious of any other presence, fell prone at his master’s feet. “Take de cuss offen me, Ole Marse, an’ lemme die, fur dat freedom hit ride me lack er hant, an’ let loose de debil in ole Cage! Take hit back, Ole Marse, fur I got er whole week er dat mizerbul freedom lef’, an’ you wouldn’ take hit back! Dat what mek me brek in yo’ smoke-house fur, an’—oh, Lord! I’s er mizerbul sinnin’ nigger, all on ercount er dis heah freedom; an’ you nebber sont de oberseer ter whup me; but I were willin’—de Lord He know how willin’ I were—if I mought git shet er dis heah freedom!” There was a pause, broken by Micajah’s sobs. “Tell it all, Micajah,” said the Judge. “Dat what I taken Marse Harry Stone’s tuckeys fur. I ain’ want dem tuckeys, Ole Marse—dey done tied out dar in de fiel’ now—but I wants ter get shet er dis heah freedom! I hain’t nuffin but des er po’ fool nigger, Ole Marse. I hain’t gwine ter ax fur nuffin ebber no mo’—nuffin but sumpen ter eat, an’ mighty little er dat! Yo’ knows what’s the bestes’ fur me, Ole Marse, an’ yo’ knows I hain’t fitten ter breave de bref er life! Kill me, Ole Marse, kill me; but ’fore yo’ does hit take de cuss er freedom offen my soul!” * * * * * A sudden gust must have blown dust in the Judge’s eyes, for he winked them hard, then blew his nose vociferously. A whispered consultation was held with Major Stone. “That’s entirely satisfactory to me, Judge”—the Major was smiling. “The case is dismissed!” roared the Judge. THE DEVIL’S LITTLE FLY In the long ago, when the nether world was not so densely populated as it now is, and the days were not so full of interest, never having forgotten an early experience with a most beautiful woman, and often feeling the spirit of adventure strong upon him, the lord of that domain used to walk abroad upon the earth in the cool of the evening. Many of these excursions were full of excitement and variety, and sometimes of great daring upon the part of Satan, as there was no need of the slightest disguise, for the world was not so wise as it is now, and those simple folk, both fine and poor, white and black, dallied with Satan without question. But the subjugation of an entire plantation, from the “Quality” to the “Quarters,” required time—more time, often, than Satan could give consecutively—so there were certain emissaries to be employed during enforced absences.