and then a negro would lead a new one up to the house and deliver
him to a big man at the door, who, in return, would drop something
into the negro's hand. While Satan waited, the old drunkard came
along with his little dog at his heels, paused before the door,
looked a moment at his faithful follower, and went slowly on.
Satan little knew the old drunkard's temptation, for in that
yellow house kind-hearted people had offered fifteen cents for
each dog brought to them, without a license, that they might
mercifully put it to death, and fifteen cents was the precise
price for a drink of good whiskey. Just then there was another
bang and another howl somewhere, and Satan trotted home to meet a
calamity. Dinnie was gone. Her mother had taken her out in the
country to Grandmother Dean's to spend Christmas, as was the
family custom, and Mrs. Dean would not wait any longer for Satan;
so she told Uncle Billy to bring him out after supper.

"Ain't you 'shamed o' yo'self--suh--?" said the old butler,
"keeping me from ketchin' Christmas gifts dis day?"

Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock
in the afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump
from hiding-places to shout "Christmas Gif'--Christmas Gif'"; and
the one who shouts first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for
Satan--Uncle Carey, Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle
Billy in the big house. Every few minutes he would trot on his
little black legs upstairs and downstairs, looking for his
mistress. As dusk came on, he would every now and then howl
plaintively. After begging his supper, and while Uncle Billy was
hitching up a horse in the stable, Satan went out in the yard and
lay with his nose between the close panels of the fence--quite