I have no fear he will ever break the Eighth Commandment again.  His heart was touched long ago, and ever since then his understanding had received conviction upon conviction; for, oh, the blaze of light that enters our souls when our fate puts us in his place—­in her place—­in their place—­whom we used to strike, never realizing how it hurt them!  He is respected for his intelligence and good-nature; he is sober, industrious, pushing and punctilious in business.  One trait of the Bohemian remains.  About every four months a restlessness comes over him; then the wise Jenny of her own accord proposes a trip.  Poor Tom’s eyes sparkle directly; off they go together.  A foolish wife would have made him go alone.  They come back, and my lord goes to his duties with fresh zest till the periodical fit comes again.  No harm ever comes of it.

Servants are at a great premium, masters at a discount, in the colony; hence a domestic phenomenon, which my English readers can hardly conceive, but I am told my American friends have a faint glimpse of it in the occasional deportment of their “helps” in out-of-the-way places.

Now Tom, and especially Jenny, had looked forward to reigning in their own house, and it was therefore a disappointment when they found themselves snubbed and treated with hauteur, and Jenny revolted against servant after servant, who straightway abdicated and left her forlorn.  At last their advertisement was answered by a male candidate for menial authority, who proved to be Mr. Miles, their late master.  Tom and Jenny colored up, and both agreed it was out of the question—­they should feel too ashamed.  Mr. Miles answered by offering to bet a crown he should make them the best servant in the street; and, strange to say, the bargain was struck and he did turn out a model servant.  He was civil and respectful, especially in public, and never abused his situation.  Comparing his conduct with his predecessors’, it really appeared that a gentleman can beat snobs in various relations of life.  As Tom’s master and Jenny’s, he had never descended to servility, nor was he betrayed into arrogance now that he had risen to be their servant.

A word about Jacky.  After the meal off the scented rabbit in the bush, Robinson said slyly to George:  “I thought you promised Jacky a hiding—­well, here he is.”

“Now, Tom,” replied the other, coloring up, “is it reasonable, and he has just saved our two lives? but if you think that I won’t take him to task, you are much mistaken.”

George then remonstrated with the chief for spoiling Abner with his tomahawk.  Jacky opened his eyes with astonishment and admiration.  Here was another instance of the white fellow’s wonderful power of seeing things a good way behind him.  He half closed his eyes, and tried in humble imitation to peer back into the past.  Yes! he could just manage to see himself very indistinctly giving Abner a crack; but stop! let him see, it was impossible to be positive,