He wondered what had become of Laurie Meredith, that his pretty sweetheart had been forced to seek refuge in a deserted negro cabin in her sore distress and trouble, and so wondering, he fell asleep in his chair, and remained there until morning, snoring profoundly, and oblivious to everything. * * * * * When he opened his eyes again the broad sunlight of new day was shining in through the open door, and the song of birds was in the air. Poky's trunk had come up, and she was down on her knees unpacking it, and softly humming a revival song. Sam's neck, which had been hanging over on his breast, felt as if it was half broken. He straightened up and gaped so loudly that his wife turned around and began to rate him soundly for sleeping in his chair all night, declaring that she had nearly shaken him to pieces without being able to rouse him, so had retired, leaving him to the enjoyment of his arm-chair. Sam did not doubt the assertion, knowing himself to be a very heavy sleeper. He sat still a little while collecting his wits, and then said: "Yes, I remember it all now, Poky. I fell to sleep while you was in de comp'ny with Miss Flower an' de baby." "Wha-at?" Poky exclaimed, and he repeated his words, only to be laughed at by his wife, who declared that he must have been dreaming, as she did not know what he meant in the least. In vain did Sam go over the startling events of last night to his laughing wife. She admitted the cats in the company room, but the rest of the story she laughed to scorn. "You fell asleep, you foolish nigger, while I was scatterin' dem tom-cats off dat shed, and you dreamed all de rest," she said; and to satisfy his doubts she made him go into the spare room, which he found neat and tidy, as in Maria's time, the white bed smooth and unrumpled, the two cane-seated chairs standing rigidly against the wall, the small looking-glass on the white-draped toilet-table reflecting his crest-fallen face only, as Poky, standing at the open door, said, jibingly: "I hope you'se satisfied now! You don't see any babies nor flowers in dere, does you?" The puzzled dreamer shuffled out with rather a sheepish air, and while he did justice to his morning repast, had to endure a running fire of commentaries on his dream that drove him at last quite out of the house, to escape being the butt of Poky's merry malice. Presently, while he was sulkily smoking his pipe in the front yard, she came out to him in her check apron, with her sleeves rolled up, and carrying the broom in her brown, shapely hand. With rather a sober air, she said: "I declare, Sam, I was so tickled at yer foolish dream that I forgot to tell yer what the man said as brought my trunk this mornin'." "Well?" inquired her sulky spouse. "Why, it 'pears like a young lady 'bout dis neighborhood drowndid herself las' night." "Sho!" exclaimed Sam, wonderingly.