Uncle Noahs Christmas Inspiration | Page 6

Uncle Noah drew forward another of the rickety
old rocking-chairs with which the Cotesville waiting-room was dotted,
she bent toward him--a light in the wonderful gray eyes that won Uncle
Noah's heart.
"Tell me," she said kindly: "Tell me just why you want to sell
yourself."
No, she had not laughed at him. Uncle Noah glowed to the tips of his
fingers at the ready sympathy of her tone. He beamed mildly at her
over his spectacles, turning the old fur cap round and round in his
hands as he sought to voice the words that struggled to his lips. "Ol'
Massa's money--an', Miss, he hain't had much since de War; jus' 'nuff
to live comfutable--all go in de Cotesville bank crash las' fall an' he
doan want ol' Mis' foh to know. I'se de only one o' de niggers whut's
left, an' dere's only one ol' turkey gobbler left o' de stock. He's my ol'
pet, Miss, mos' like a chile, an'--an'--" Uncle Noah choked.
The girl's eyes were misty velvet. "And he told you to kill your pet for
the Christmas dinner?" she finished gently.

Uncle Noah nodded. "Massa done say we mus' hab a turkey for de
Christmas dinner, or ol' Mis'll suspect de--de financial crisis whut we're
in. Out in de barn I prays foh an inspiration an' I 'spect it come."
"And so you decided to sell yourself--" began the girl.
"Yas'm." Uncle Noah's voice had grown apologetic. "Yoh see, Miss,
I'se de only thing whut I really owns 'cept dis yere ol' stickpin. Cose I'se
free now, but I reckons if I has a mind to sell maself de Norf can't stop
me. I'se sellin' ma own property." There was a gentle defiance in the
old negro's argument.
"And you--you wouldn't accept a--a loan?" The girl flushed.
The negro's hurt eyes were answer enough. Uncle Noah had not lived
in an atmosphere permeated with Fairfax pride without feeling its
influence.
"I'se not askin' foh charity, Miss," he averred stubbornly. "I'se a-sellin'
sumthin'. I reckons if yoh buy me, Miss, an' yoh lemme go back an'
stay Christmas wif ol' Massa, I'll sell maself cheap. Yoh see I'se
a-plannin' first to buy a turkey whut'll take Job's place on de platter, an'
den to give de Massa a gran' Christmas wif de rest o' de money what I
gits foh maself, savin' out jus' enough to buy ma ol' turkey an' come to
yoh first day after Christmas. It'll be hard to leave ol' Massa and Mis',
but I reckons it's jus' gotta be done."
Uncle Noah gulped and blinked, and there was a glimmer of wet lashes
about the warm gray eyes that had won his heart.
The girl was silent so long that Uncle Noah shifted uneasily; but at last
she spoke a little tremulously. "For what price will you sell yourself?"
she asked, and Uncle Noah never doubted but that she regarded the
purchase in the same light in which he himself had viewed it.
He turned about for his purchaser's thorough inspection, his bald head
above the fringe of white wool about it glistening in the lamplight. "Do
yoh think I'se wuth, say, twenty-five dollahs?" he queried, regarding
her fixedly over his spectacles.
The girl touched her throat with an unconscious gesture. "Yes, you
are," she cried impulsively; "you are indeed!" And before Uncle Noah
had quite time to adjust himself to the joy of his unique sale the girl
thrust a roll of bills into his hands and disappeared through the station
door.

IV
Christmas Intrigue

IV
Uncle Noah hobbled after her. His new mistress had quite forgotten to
tell him where to deliver himself when his Christmas with the Colonel
was over. But when he reached the door she was eagerly greeting a
man who had just alighted from a waiting carriage. Uncle Noah could
but dimly see him, but as the genial voice reached his ears he halted in
the shadow quite content. It was Major Verney. The fact that the
Colonel's old friend and neighbor had driven in from Fernlands to meet
the radiant lady whose great gray eyes, Uncle Noah now recalled, had
had the Verney look which endeared the owner of Fernlands to all who
knew him, seemed to the watching negro a direct interposition of
Providence. A scant mile of cottonfields lay between the two
plantations, and, Christmas over, Uncle Noah had but to trudge across
the fields to deliver himself to the Major's guest.
"And, Ruth," concluded Major Verney in laughing reprimand, "you
have kept me waiting. Why, child, the Northern Express came in fifteen
minutes ago."
Uncle Noah did not catch the girl's reply as Major Verney assisted her
into the carriage and they drove rapidly away.
The old darky beamed happily after