'Yas, massa, good as black Jack; dat's my name, massa, dat's my name--yah, yah,' and he turned his face, wet with merry tears, and distended in an uncommonly broad grin, up to mine. In a moment, however, his eye caught Preston's. His broad visage collapsed, his distended mouth shrank to a very diminutive opening, and his twinkling eyes assumed a peculiarly stolid expression, as he added, in a deprecatory tone: 'No, massa Robert, not so good as black jack; not so good as dat--'ou knows I doan't keer fur him; you knows I doan't knows him no more, massa Robert.' 'I know you never knew him,' replied Preston, playing on his name. 'He's a hardened old sinner. He has sinned away the day of grace, I'm sure. But you know better than to ask presents of strangers. Give it back to the gentleman at once.' An indescribable expression stole over the old negro's visage as he thrust his hand through his thin, frosty wool, looked pleadingly up at his master's face, and, seeing no signs of relenting there, slowly and reluctantly opened his palm and offered me the money. 'No, no, Preston, let him keep it; it won't do him any harm,' I said. 'No more'n it woan't, good massa, not a morsel ob harm,' exclaimed the darky, his small eyes twinkling again with pleasurable anticipation, and his broad face widening into its accustomed grin: 'I woan't take nary a drop, massa Robert, nary a drop!' 'Well,' said his master, 'you can keep it if you'll promise not to drink it all to-morrow. So much whiskey would spoil your prayer at the meeting.' 'So it 'ould, massa Robert; so much as dat; but Jack allers prays de stronger fur a little, massa Robert, jess a little--it sort o' 'pears ter warm up a ole man's sperrets, and ter fotch all de 'votion right inter him froat.' 'I suppose it does; all the devotion you ever feel. You're an old sinner, Jack, past praying for, I fear,' replied Preston, good-naturedly, turning his horse to go. 'Not pass prayin' fur 'ou, massa Robert, not pass dat, an' ole Jack neber will be, nudder--not so long as he kin holler loud 'nuff fur de Lord ter yere. 'Ou may 'pend on dat, massa Robert, 'ou may 'pend on dat.' As we rode away, I asked Preston if the old black led the services at the negro meetings. 'Yes, I am obliged to let him. He was formerly the plantation preacher, and, with all his faults, the blacks are much attached to him. A small rebellion broke out among them, five years ago, when I displaced him, and put Joe into the pulpit. I compromised the difficulty by agreeing that Jack should lead in prayer every Sunday morning. They think he has a gift that way, and _you_ would conclude the day of Pentecost had come, if you should hear him when he is about half-seas-over.' 'Then he does pray better for a little whiskey?' 'Yes, a mug of 'black jack' helps him amazingly--it gives him the real power.'