would have so far talked himself out of his good graces (a misfortune
that sometimes happens to extraordinary eloquence), as to have lost
the object of his anxiety, and, like the nightingale in Cowper's
fable, have "sought his dinner somewhere else." But Primus saw the
gathering storm and hastened to avert its discharge.

"I hab great respec'," he said, "for the milishy. Dey is excellent for
skirmishing, and where ebbery man hab to fight on his own hook, but
when it come to de hard fightin' de regulars is de men to be depend
on. And den," added he, "dere is odder reasons: I like de exercise in
de church better. I like dere taste, too, when dey ornaments de church
wid greens at Christmas. It make de winter look kind o' young and
happy."

Felix was easily propitiated. He might be offended with his comrade,
but his anger could not last. It had passed away, before Primus had
concluded his conciliatory remarks. In fact, the two cronies were too
necessary to each other's happiness to allow of a long quarrel,
and for all Felix's reverence for his master's "meeting," he was as
placable as zealous, nor would the famous festival have been a
genuine Thanksgiving without his old friend to help him to discuss its
luxuries. They shook hands at parting, and Mr. Qui promised to present
the complemens of the General to Miss Rosa.

As Felix pursued his way alone, having no one else to talk to, he gave
himself the benefit of his conversation.

"That General," he said, aloud, "is a wonderful man. I never respected
him before of knowing how to read writin'. I don't believe, after all,
he does know how. But when he took the billets in his hand, he sort o'