“Man, you sho got a good head for somebody bin raised in Gritny. De onles diffunce twix’ you an’ me: you wise-minded from readin’ in books an’ things; an’ po’ me, I ain’ got nothin’ but mother-wit.... But I’m goin’ do jes’ like you say; an’ leave hyuh firs’ thing in de mawnin’, soon as I give you yo’ coffee.” “And be sure to take the touch-me-nots with you to give to Lethe,” Mr. Amos reminded him, with a playful smile. Getting up from his chair suddenly, he pretended to be greatly annoyed, and walked over to the bed-side to cover his embarrassment, saying: “Man, git up from hyuh, wid dat ole cat, an’ lemme fix yo’ bed so you kin lay down an’ sleep an’ stop thinkin’ up a whole lot o’ humbug.... Come on; you done plague me enough for one night.... Lemme turn down de bed for you, so I kin go lay down an’ pray.” Next morning Felo was away from the house before eight o’clock, on his way to Gretna to make peace with the belligerent Lethe. His mind was disturbed by many conflicting emotions when he tried to think how she would receive him. As the ferry pulled in to the Gretna landing, his uneasiness became intense; for he recognized several of his colored friends on their way to the City to dispose of their various wares. The pontoon was crowded with _marchande_ women, with large flat baskets of vegetables balanced on their heads; the careful arrangement of the shining, dew-washed, maroon-colored beets, scarlet peppers, pale green lettuce, and the golden carrots with plume-like foliage, making the baskets from a distance appear like gigantic, colorful hats decked for a rustic festival. In the crowd he recognized Lizzie and Chester, each with a basket of vegetables. If Lizzie had heard anything from Lethe, she would be sure to mention it. He was relieved when she spoke first. “Hi! Mr. Felo,” she greeted him, as she came off the boat. “Y’awter staid longer to de wake Sunday night. We sho did give Aun’ Milly a good sen’-over. I staid till close on to fo’ clock in de mawnin’. An’ I wouldn’ a-lef’ den, but de coffee gived out.” “You know if Lethe goin’ to de burryin’?” Felo inquired artfully. “I ain’ seen Lethe since Sunday night, Mr. Felo. I pass by ’uh house dis mawnin’, but it look like nobody was home.” This information reassured him. Lizzie knew nothing, therefore Lethe had not told her trouble abroad. The boat bell rang, and Lizzie and Chester hurried on board, calling to Felo, they hoped to see him next Sunday. He waved good-by to them, passing on with a feeling of gratitude. As he turned into the street where Lethe lived, he looked toward the house and saw a thin blue reek of smoke curling up from the dilapidated chimney. A mockingbird was sitting on the corner of the roof, singing; telling the heedless world of the prodigal beauty of the sunshine and the fleeting glory of the morning.