Advancing a step or two he came nearer to the negro, who took comfort at once from the expression of his face, and stretching out his shaking hand he said, beseechingly: "You, mas'r, you buy old Sam, 'case it 'ill be lonesome and cold in de cabin at home when they all is gone.

Please, mas'r." "What can you do ?" was Hugh's query, to which the truthful negro answered: "Nothin' much, 'cept to set in the chimbly corner eatin' corn bread and bacon--or, yes," and an expression of reverence and awe stole over the wrinkled face, as in a low tone he added, "I can pray for young mas'r, and I will, only buy me, please." Hugh had not much faith in praying negroes, but something in old Sam struck him as sincere.

His prayers might do good, and be needed somebody's, sadly.

But what should he offer, when fifteen dollars was all he had in the world, and was it his duty to encumber himself with a piece of useless property?
Visions of the Golden Haired and Adah both arose up before him.

They would say it was right.