The sullen fire of eternal hatred burned in the eye which Ike turned upon her. He fired his last shot. "Miss Virginy, you' Daddy ain' want all des yere chillun in dis caah. He mighty biggoty about whoall ride in it. Ah 'spects dey is gwine dirty it up sumpin fierce." "Who yo'all call dirty?" demanded the woman; but Virginia made peace by an emphatic "Hush," as the colored orphans were packed into the back of the machine. With their attendant they filled the entire space. The car moved away as soon as Virginia had taken her seat by the irritated Ike. They left the town and sped along country roads. The little negroes, awed by their new surroundings, became noisy with familiarity and expressed their joy by screaming. The young hostess of this strange party was at first uncomfortable and embarrassed at the clamor of her small guests, but as she awakened to the enjoyment she was giving the orphans she forgot herself in their pleasure. It was a beautiful ride along the river shore, through the woods, and then back between great fields of growing grain the surfaces of which were broken into moving waves of green at the touch of the summer breeze. They reentered the town a few minutes before noon and were almost back to the turn towards the Orphans' Home, when far down the street they caught the glitter of brass and the glow of red. "Er ban', er ban'," screamed the little negroes. The enticing strains of melody called to Ike across the intervening blocks. There was a look of deep guile in his face, which became regret, as he suggested to Virginia, "Des po' orphants ain' no chans to heah fine ban' music. Ah might circle aroun' dat minst'el ban' an' let de chillun lis'en fo' er spell." As Virginia nodded assent, the car shot away, straight down the street. In a few moments they had overtaken the marching musicians, the reality of the poster which had charmed Ike. From them burst melody which coursed through his veins. As he drifted away on a sea of syncopated bliss, the car, subconsciously driven, closed upon the marching minstrels. In the midst of a delegation of youth, honoring the snare and bass drummers, it rolled. Bearing Virginia and her guests behind the pageant and as an apparent part thereof, it proceeded towards the center of the city. The negro children were clamorous with delight at the wonderful concentration of humanity, noise, and excitement. Their screams vied with the band and their guardian on the rear seat assumed a careless dignity. Virginia's mind was occupied with the infants. To her, the onlookers, more numerous as they neared the business part of town, were the background of a picture. She was utterly unconscious that the load of pickaninnies formed a most appropriate part of the spectacle.