little cove."

"Beau," said the boy, "I've had such a dream! I thought my dear
father, who is working so hard to bring me home to him, had carried me
out on the river in a boat. We sailed through the greenest marshes,
among white lilies, where the wild ducks were tame as they can be. All
the ducks were diving and diving, and they brought up long stalks of
celery from the water and gave them to us. Father ate all his. But
mine turned into lilies and grew up so high that I felt myself going
with them, and the higher I went the more beautiful grew the birds.
Oh! let me sleep and see if it will be so again."

The outcast raised his gold-headed cane and hobbled up and down the
room with a laced handkerchief at his eyes.

"Great God!" he exclaimed, "another generation is going out, and here
I stay without a stake, playing a lone hand forever and forever."

"Beau," said Reybold, "there's hope while one can feel. Don't go away
until you have a good word from our little passenger."

The outstretched hand of the Northern Congressman was not refused by
the vagrant, whose eccentric sorrow yet amused the Southern
Committeemen.

"Ole Beau's jib-boom of a mustache 'll put his eye out," said Pontotoc
Bibb, "ef he fetches another groan like that."

"Beau's very shaky around the hams an' knees," said Box Izard; "he's
been a good figger, but even figgers can lie ef they stand up too