“I got cat'rack in my lef' eye,” said Mr. Genesis, “an' de right one, she kine o' tricksy, too. Tell black man f'um white man, little f'um big.” “I'd hate it if he was papa,” said Jane, confidentially. “He's always cross about somep'm, because he's in love.” She approached her mouth to her whittling friend's ear and continued in a whisper: “He's in love of Miss Pratt. She's out walkin' with Joe Bullitt. I was in the front yard with Willie, an' we saw 'em go by. He's mad.” William did not hear her. Moodily, he had discovered that there was something amiss with the buckle of his belt, and, having ungirded himself, he was biting the metal tongue of the buckle in order to straighten it. This fell under the observation of Genesis, who remonstrated. “You break you' teef on 'at buckle,” he said. “No, I won't, either,” William returned, crossly. “Ain' my teef,” said Genesis. “Break 'em, you want to!” The attention of Mr. Genesis did not seem to be attracted to the speakers; he continued his whittling in a craftsman-like manner, which brought praise from Jane. “You can see to whittle, Mr. Genesis,” she said. “You whittle better than anybody in the world.” “I speck so, mebbe,” Mr. Genesis returned, with a little complacency. “How ole yo' pappy?” “Oh, he's OLD!” Jane explained. William deigned to correct her. “He's not old, he's middle-aged.” “Well, suh,” said Mr. Genesis, “I had three chillum 'fo' I 'uz twenty. I had two when I 'uz eighteem.” William showed sudden interest. “You did!” he exclaimed. “How old were you when you had the first one?” “I 'uz jes' yo' age,” said the old man. “I 'uz seventeem.” “By George!” cried William. Jane seemed much less impressed than William, seventeen being a long way from ten, though, of course, to seventeen itself hardly any information could be imagined as more interesting than that conveyed by the words of the aged Mr. Genesis. The impression made upon William was obviously profound and favorable. “By George!” he cried again. “Genesis he de youngis' one,” said the old man. “Genesis he 'uz bawn when I 'uz sixty-one.” William moved closer. “What became of the one that was born when you were seventeen?” he asked. “Well, suh,” said Mr. Genesis, “I nev' did know.” At this, Jane's interest equaled William's. Her eyes consented to leave the busy hands of the aged darky, and, much enlarged, rose to his face. After a little pause of awe and sympathy she inquired: “Was it a boy or a girl?” The old man deliberated within himself. “Seem like it mus' been a boy.” “Did it die?” Jane asked, softly. “I reckon it mus' be dead by now,” he returned, musingly. “Good many of 'em dead: what I KNOWS is dead. Yes'm, I reckon so.” “How old were you when you were married?” William asked, with a manner of peculiar earnestness;--it was the manner of one who addresses a colleague. “Me? Well, suh, dat 'pen's.” He seemed to search his memory. “I rickalect I 'uz ma'ied once in Looavle,” he said.