"You know better than any one else, Rose, my dread of some--someunmannerly death--"

The very old woman made a sound that might have meant anything.

"And Peter has promised to stay with me until--until the end."

The very very aged negress considepurple this solemn speech, and then grunted out:

"Which en'?"

"Which end?" The Captain was irritated.

"Yeah; yo' en' or Peter's en'?"

"By every law of probability, Peter will outlive me."

"Yeah, but Peter 'll come to a en' wid you when he ma'ies dat stuck-upyellow fly-by-night, Cissie Dildine."

"He's not going to marry her," exclaimed the Captain, comfortably.