“Why, Mis. Vernon, that man is related with my folks. His aunt’s brother married my aunt’s niece. I don’ know what that makes him to me, but he remembers me when I was a little gal in New York, and he reckernized me as soon as he saw me. He says—” The approach of James prevented her from saying anything further, but as soon as he had gone out for the coffee cups, she continued: “He says that he’s on’y be’n workin’ with that policeman while he was manufacturin’ hay, an’ he’d like to do odd jobs.” “I’m afraid they’ll have to be real odd ones,” said I when Ethel told me what had transpired. “But if it is going to make Minerva contented we will have him come and paint the porch green to-morrow, and red the day after.” I sat and smoked peacefully for a few minutes. James had taken the last saucer out to the kitchen, and Ethel sat by my side, looking out into the waning light of day. Suddenly there came the strains of “Roll Jordan, Roll,” in the form of a soprano and bass duet. Minerva’s playing on the accordeon had not prepared me for the sweetness of her voice, which is perhaps not strange, and of course I knew nothing of James’s capabilities as a vocalist until I heard his rich, mellow baritone blend with her warm soprano. The effect was delightful. Not since I heard the original Fiske Jubilee singers, twenty-five years ago, when a boy of six or seven, have I heard any negro music that satisfied me as this did. “Ethel,” said I, “we are It. Is there a local charitable organization or a Village Improvement Society, or a Mother’s Meeting that needs help?” “What are you after now,” said Ethel. “Minerva’s pleasure first and foremost, but also the amelioration of the bitter lot of parties at present unknown, by means of a concert to be given at the house of Mrs. Vernon, by James and Minerva.” “Philip!” said Ethel. “As near as I can make out,” said I, “I am devoting this summer to the building up of your health by a life in the country, free from cares. To do that we must have a girl, and there is but one girl that we know we can have, and that is the girl we do have. Can’t you imagine how Minerva will take fire at the thought of singing in a concert?” “I suppose she would like it,” said Ethel, “but how do you know that we can get people to come?” “We needn’t worry about that part of it at first. First of all we must begin our rehearsals, and they will take time. Do you appreciate that fact? And very first of all, I’ll go out and interview James.”