[Illustration: Mars' Nat]
Mars' Nat stood outside his kitchen window, with his hands in his
pockets, giving orders to the colored boy within, who did his bachelor
housekeeping. Usually he had a joking word for old Sheba's grandson, but
this morning he took no notice of the little fellow loitering by with
such an appealing look on his face. John Jay had come past the toll-gate
with a hope of seeing the "Rev'und Gawge," as he called him. It had been
three weeks since the man had come home, and in that time John Jay's
interest in him had grown into a sort of hero-worship. There had been a
great deal of talk about him among the ignorant colored people.
Wonderful stories were afloat of his experiences at the North, of his
power as a preacher, and of the plans he had made to help his people. He
would have been surprised could he have known how he was discussed, or
how the stories grew as they travelled.
Those who had any claim whatever to a former acquaintance stopped at the
cottage to see him. Their interest and the little offerings of fruit or
flowers, which they often made their excuse for coming, touched him
greatly.
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