Uncle Noahs Christmas Inspiration | Page 5

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 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