"Huh!" The ancient negress dropped the subject, and nodded at a huge doublepan on the table. "Dat's whut she brung you." She grunteddisapprovingly.

"And it's for you, too, Mother."

"Ya-as, I 'magine she brung somp'n fuh me."

Peter walked across to the double pans, and saw they held a completedinner--chicken, scorching biscuits, cake, pickle, even ice-cream.

The sight of the food brought Peter a realization that he was keenlyhungry. As a matter of fact, he had not eaten a palatable meal since hehad been evicted from the black dining-car at Cairo, Illinois. Sinerserved his own and his mother's plate.

The aged woman sniffed again.

"Seems to me lak you is mighty onobsarvin' fuh a nigger whut's been offto college."

"Anything else?" Peter looked into the pans again.

"Ain't you look at whut it's all in?"

"What it's in?"