46 J. COLE.

his prayers that night in spite of the aching
head and weary limbs that needed so badly
the few hours’ rest that remained before six
o'clock, the time Joe always got up.

Silently we stole away, and in my mind
from that moment my faith in Joe never
wavered. Not once, in spite of sad events
that came to pass later on, when even I, his
staunchest friend, had to recall to memory
that kneeling little form in the silence of
the night, alone with his God, in order to
stifle the cruel doubts of his truth that were
forced upon us all by circumstances I must
soon relate.

The famous dinner passed off well. Joe
was splendid; his midnight practice had
brought its reward, and he moved about so
swiftly, and anticipated everybody’s wants so
well, that some of my friends asked me
where I got such a treasure of a page; he
must have had a good butler or footman to
teach him, they said; he is evidently used
to waiting on many guests. I was proud of
Joe.

The next day he came to me with more