“Well, nevah min’,” said Ike, after his first moment of sad triumph was over. “I guess it wasn’t the comfo’t nohow, ’ca’se I seed him wif a letteh when I went in, but I didn’t ’spicion nuffin’ tell he look at me an’ talk jes’ ez sensible ez me er you.” It was not until dinner-time that Ike found courage to go back to his master’s room, and then he did not find him sitting in his accustomed place, nor was he on the porch or in the hall. Growing alarmed, the old servant searched high and low for him, until he came to the door of a long-disused room. A bundle of keys hung from the keyhole. “Hyeah’s whah he got dat letteh,” said Ike. “I reckon he come to put it back.” But even as he spoke, his eyes bulged with apprehension. He opened the door farther, and went in. And there at last his search was ended. Colonel Estridge was on his knees before an old oak chest. On the floor about him were scattered pair on pair of home-knit gloves. He was very still. His head had fallen forward on the edge of the chest. Ike went up to him and touched his shoulder. There was no motion in response. The black man lifted his master’s head. The face was pale and cold and lifeless. In the stiffening hand was clenched a pair of gloves,—the last Miss Randolph had ever really knit for him. The servant lifted up the lifeless form, and laid it upon the bed. When Lize came she would have wept and made loud lamentations, but Ike checked her. “Keep still,” he said. “Pray if you want to, but don’t hollah. We ought to be proud, Lize.” His shoulders were thrown back and his head was up. “Mas’ Bob’s in glory. Dis is Virginia’s Christmas gif’ to Gawd!” THE TRIAL SERMONS ON BULL-SKIN THE TRIAL SERMONS ON BULL-SKIN The congregation on Bull-Skin Creek was without a pastor. You will probably say that this was a deficiency easily remedied among a people who possess so much theological material. But you will instantly perceive how different a matter it was, when you learn that the last shepherd who had guided the flock at Bull-skin had left that community under a cloud. There were, of course, those who held with the departed minister, as well as those who were against him; and so two parties arose in the church, each contending for supremacy. Each party refused to endorse any measure or support any candidate suggested by the other; and as neither was strong enough to run the church alone, they were in a state of inactive equipoise very gratifying to that individual who is supposed to take delight in the discomfort of the righteous. It was in this complicated state of affairs that Brother Hezekiah Sneedon, who was the representative of one of the candidates for the vacant pastorate, conceived and proposed a way out of the difficulty. Brother Sneedon’s proposition was favourably acted upon by the whole congregation, because it held out the promise of victory to each party. It was, in effect, as follows: