"I doubt if he can play better than Hugh," was my dear sister's answer. "But we'll have some of his music, if it be only to remind us of him who is so far away." "The music we can and will have, my child," cried my grandmother, cheerfully; "though _that_ is not wanted to remind us of our absent boy. Good morrow, Susquesus; I hope this fine day agrees with you." "Sago," returned the Indian, making a dignified and even graceful forward gesture with one arm, though he did not rise. "Weadder good--Great Spirit good, dat reason. How squaws do?" "We are all well, I thank you, Trackless. Good morrow, Jaaf; how do _you_ do, this fine morning?" Yop, or Jaap, or Jaaf, rose tottering, made a low obeisance, and then answered in the semi-respectful, semi-familiar manner of an old, confidential family servant, as the last existed among our fathers: "T'ank 'ee, Miss Dus, wid all my heart," he answered. "Pretty well to-day; but ole Sus, he fail, and grow ol'er and ol'er desp'ate fast!" Now, of the two, the Indian was much the finest relic of human powers, though he was less uneasy and more stationary than the black. But the propensity to see the mote in the eye of his friend, while he forgot the beam in his own, was a long-established and well-known weakness of Jaaf, and its present exhibition caused everybody to smile. I was delighted with the beaming, laughing eyes of Mary Warren in particular, though she said nothing. "I cannot say I agree with you, Jaaf," returned my smiling grandmother. "The Trackless bears his years surprisingly; and I think I have not seen him look better this many a day than he is looking this morning. We are none of us as young as we were when we first became acquainted, Jaaf--which is now near, if not quite, three-score years ago." "You nuttin' but gal, nudder," growled the negro. "Ole Sus be raal ole fellow; but Miss Dus and Masser Mordaunt, dey get married only tudder day. Why _dat_ was a'ter de revylooshen!" "It was, indeed," replied the venerable woman, with a touch of melancholy in her tones; "but the revolution took place many, many a long year since!" "Well, now, I be surprise, Miss Dus! How you call _dat_ so long, when he only be tudder day?" retorted the pertinacious negro, who began to grow crusty, and to speak in a short, spiteful way, as if displeased by hearing that to which he could not assent. "Masser Corny was little ole, p'r'aps, if he lib, but all de rest ob you nuttin' but children. Tell me one t'ing, Miss Dus, be it true dey's got a town at Satanstoe?" "An attempt was made, a few years since, to turn the whole country into towns, and, among other places, the Neck; but I believe it will never be anything more than a capital farm." "So besser. _Dat_ good land, I tell you! One acre down dere wort' more dan twenty acre up here." "My grandson would not be pleased to hear you say that, Jaaf." "Who your grandson, Miss Dus. Remember you hab little baby tudder day; but baby can't hab baby."