have sent to his mother ebery holiday since he done went away from
yere. Mornin', I specs, when de Colonel sees 'em at her plate, he'll
declare yoh gobblin' sumthin' fierce under de winder again; he always
do."

The old negro broke the string of the box and removed a glowing mass of
purple orchids--odd, transient tenants of the crazy old barn. Job
suddenly reached over and pecked a blossom from its stem, ate the heart
with the dainty air of an epicure, and discarded the remainder with a
noise akin to a gobble of disgust.

Uncle Noah rose in scandalized protest. "Yoh good-foh-nothin',
miserable, sassy turkey!" he scolded, hastily removing the orchids;
"you sartinly is de mos' scan'lous, no-'count bird I ever knowed. Eat
one o' ol' Missus's orchards! Laws-a-massy, Job, yoh goes mos' too
far. Now, sah, yoh be quiet and listen to dis note I gets from young
Massa Dick," and he carefully deciphered the written lines for the
listening Job.


_Dear Uncle Noah_: I have written Foster and Company as usual to send
Mother's orchids. They should get there Christmas Eve. Will you put
them at her plate in the morning? I find they are the only suggestion
of me that the Colonel will allow in the house. I tried another letter
this week, but it came back unopened. Uncle Noah, give Mother "A Merry
Christmas" for me. DICK.


[Illustration: Now, sah, yoh be quiet and listen to dis note I gets
from young Massa Dick]