When at last he was suited, and his dressing completed, he sallied forth to breakfast.
Xenophon stared after him as he went out of the gate whistling heartily.
The old darky lifted his hands, palms outward.
"Lan' name, who dat!" he exclaimed aloud.

"Who dat in dem pan-jingeries?
He jine' de circus ?" His hands fell upon his knees, and he got to his feet pneumatically, shaking his head with foreboding.

"Honey, honey, hit' baid luck, baid luck sing 'fo' breakfus.

Trouble 'fo' de day be done.

Trouble, honey, gre't trouble.