Uncle Noahs Christmas Inspiration | Page 5

huts long since burned one by one in the
library fireplace. Into its dilapidated interior he thrust the protesting
turkey, pausing at the door as he struck a match to view the bird's
temporary quarters.
"Now, Massa Job Fairfax," he began, "I knows yoh is jus' mad clean
through. Yoh jus' naturally objects to bein' toted out in de snow in de
middle o' de turkey night 'thout bein' asked. Yoh says yoh back is full o'
snow? Well, I jus' asks yoh, Massa Job Fairfax, ain't dat better'n bein'
wifout a head? Now, sah, I asks yoh to be mos' terrible quiet dis yere
night. I'se a-goin' into Cotesville on a little trip an' I doan want de
Colonel to know yoh here."
He closed the rickety door, and, hurrying back across the fields, sought
the kitchen, his eyes behind their spectacles shining with excitement.
Muffling himself in a quaint red knitted scarf, a dingy overcoat and a
worn fur cap, plentifully earlapped, he left the house again, pausing
only long enough to peer through the library window at the Colonel,
who was reading aloud to his wife, both drawn up in the cheery warmth
of a blazing wood fire. Then he hurried on along the road to town.
With a prayer in his heart for the success of his mission Uncle Noah

trudged sturdily down the two miles to Cotesville, past Major Verney's
old plantation, the cheery lights of the great house twinkling brightly
through a curtain of snow, and into the snow-laden air of the village
streets alive with Christmas shoppers. Holly and mistletoe, Christmas
trees filling the air with the odor of pine, dancing snowflakes and bright
lights, wonderful windows wreathed and dotted in Christmas glitter,
and cheery voices--who could resist them? Uncle Noah felt his heart
quiver with hope; jubilantly he turned his steps toward the railroad
station ahead.
The Northern Express flashed through the snow and came to a stop
with a clang and a roar, disgorging a chattering holiday crowd who
paused for a change of cars at Cotesville on their southbound trips.
Uncle Noah hastened his shuffling footsteps: the Northern Express with
its horde of transient visitors had been a vital part of the inspiration.
Upon the station platform people stamped up and down in the snow or
laughed and chatted, quite oblivious to the timid gaze of the old darky
who slowly made his way among them. One by one Uncle Noah left
them all behind, a great disappointment in his face. In their laughing
countenances he had found nothing of what he sought.

III
The Gray-Eyed Lady

III
Just ahead a girl appeared from the shadows and walked quickly toward
the waiting-room. Uncle Noah looked into her fresh, sweet face; then
his own lit up with renewed hope and he followed her in and touched
her timidly on the arm. The girl turned, revealing a face rosy with cold,
and a pair of warm gray eyes fringed in lashes of black, eyes that
frankly offered a glimpse of a girl's impulsive heart brimming over
with Christmas spirit.
Uncle Noah removed the battered fur cap and bowed low with the
deference of a Cavalier. "I'se jus' come in to--to ask yoh, Miss," he said
simply, "if yoh'd like to buy an ol' nigger servant. I'se foh sale."
[Illustration: "I'se jus' come in to--to ask yoh, Miss," he said simply, "if
yoh'd like to buy an ol' nigger servant. I'se foh sale."]

"For sale!" The girl took in the quaint figure with a glance of blank
astonishment. "Why," she gasped, "surely you--"
"I'se ol', Miss," he interrupted timidly, but meeting her gaze with
unwavering sincerity; "I specs I'se mos' a hundred; but I'se powahful
tough an' full o' work, an'--an', Miss, I has to sell maself tonight
'cause--'cause--"
Uncle Noah paused uncertainly, seeking a fit expression of his dilemma,
and the girl, readily intuitive, glanced swiftly about to assure herself
that the waiting-room was free from unsympathetic eavesdroppers.
Then, strangely drawn by this quaint old vender of humanity, and
warmly eager to put him more at his ease, she impulsively pushed a
rocking-chair toward the old stove in the center and motioned him to be
seated. But Uncle Noah had been reared in the Fairfax family, and a
Fairfax never sat when a lady was still upon her feet. With a courtly
gesture the old man bowed her to the chair she had drawn for him. A
quick gleam of approval flashed in the gray eyes and with a deepening
flush of puzzled interest, the girl instantly seated herself, unfastening
the silver fox at her throat as she felt the warmth of the old country
stove.
"Please, I would so much rather you, too, would sit down," she said
impulsively, and as