“Uncle Noah,” said the Colonel brokenly, “I—­” but his voice failed him, and he wrung the old man’s hand in silence.

The Major bent and whispered a few swift words to the startled darky and a great light illumined the brown face.  “Doan yoh go foh to thank me, Massa Dick,” he crooned, patting the Colonel’s hand with reverent devotion; “I ain’t wuth it.  All I needs, sah, is jus’ a good kick for disobeyin’ orders.  ‘Spects I doan understan’ it all, but I does know, sah, dat de lady wid de gray eyes whut’s at Major Verney’s is—­is a good fairy, sah.  An’, Colonel, de Christmas supper am ready.”

Joyously they filed out, Dick lingering in the firelight for a word with Ruth.  Grandmother Verney, in high good humor, went out on the Colonel’s arm, the grievance of the morning’s belated sleigh quite forgotten in the genial warmth of the Fairfax hospitality.

“And what, Uncle Noah,” asked the Colonel of the old darky as usual, “have we to-night for supper?”

“Well, sah,” beamed Uncle Noah, “we has ham an’ turkey, an’ cranberry sauce an’ celery, an’ baked apples an’ mince pie an’ fruitcake an’—­an’—­laws-a-massy, Massa, I’se too kerflusterated to ricomember any mo’.”

“We’ll have them all!” cried the Colonel.

A terrific gobbling arose beneath the dining-room window, and the Major rose and stared out in astonishment.

“Merciful goodness, Dick,” he demanded, “what is that horrible racket?’

“Laws-a-massy, Massa,” cried the old darky, “it’s Job!  I let him out a while back, sah, an’ I done fohgot to put him to roost.  I reckon he’s come to remind me.”

And, beaming happily at the radiant Christmas party, Uncle Noah flung up the window and in a terrible voice commanded the tyrant to be silent.

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