It was not in Hugh’s nature to see the old man shiver so, and taking off his own thick shawl he wrapped it round the negro’s shoulders, saying to the bystanders, “My blood is warmer than his.” Another cheer from the crowd, another, “God bless you, mas’r,” and the strange pair started on their homeward tour, Hugh riding very slowly, and accommodating Rocket’s steps to the hobbling old man, who wheezed and puffed, and sweat with the wondrous efforts he made, and at last when only a mile was gone, gave out entirely, and pitched headlong into the snow. “It’s my dumb knees. They allus was crooked and shaky,” he gasped, becoming more and more entangled in the shawl, which he was not accustomed to wearing. “Look here, Sam,” and Hugh laughed heartily at the negro’s forlorn appearance, as, regaining his feet, he assumed a most deprecating attitude, asking pardon for tumbling down, and charging it all to his shaky knees. “Look here, there’s no other way, except for you to ride and me to walk. Rocket won’t carry double,” and ere Sam could remonstrate, Hugh had dismounted and placed him in the saddle. Rocket did not fancy the exchange, as was manifest by an indignant snort, and an attempt to shake Sam off, but a word from Hugh quieted him, and the latter offered the reins to Sam, who was never a skillful horseman, and felt a mortal terror of the high-mettled steed beneath him. With a most frightened expression upon his face, he grasped the saddle pommel with both hands, and bending nearly double, gasped out, “Sam ain’t much use’t to gemman’s horses. Kind of hold me on, mas’r, till I gits de hang of de critter. He hists me round mightily.” So, leading Rocket with one hand, and steadying Sam with the other, Hugh got on but slowly, and ’Lina had looked for him many times ere she spied him from the window as he came up the lawn. “In the name of wonder, what is that on Rocket!” she exclaimed, as she caught sight of Sam, whose rags were fluttering in the wind. “An old white-headed nigger, as I live!” and she hastened to the door, where the servants were assembling, all curious like herself to see the new arrival. Very carefully Hugh assisted him to dismount, but Sam’s knees, cramped up so long on Rocket, refused to straighten at once, and Lulu was not far out of the way when she likened him to a toad, while her mischievous brother Jim called out, “How d’ye, old bow legs?” “Jest tol’able, thankee,” was Sam’s meek reply, then spying ’Lina he lifted his hat politely, bowing so low that his knees gave out again, and he would have fallen had not Hugh held him up. “Who is he, and what did you get him for?” Mrs. Worthington asked, as Hugh led him into the dining room. Briefly Hugh explained to her why he had bought the negro. “It was foolish, I suppose, but I’m not sorry yet,” he added, glancing toward the corner, where the poor old man was sitting, warming his shriveled hands by the cheerful fire, and muttering to himself blessings on “young mas’r.”