Then all was hushed to listen to the melody again:--

"The world we inherit

Is charmed by thy spirit,

As radiant as the mild, warm summer ray!

The watch dog is snarling,

For fear, Annie darling,

His beautiful young friend I'd steal away!"

And the chorus broke in as before. A pause--and like a variation in

the song of the nightingale, rose the pathetic air of the "Poor Old

Slave";--

"'Tis just one year ago to-day

That I remember well,

I sat down by poor Nelly's side,

A story she did tell;

'Twas about a poor unhappy slave

That lived for many a year,

But now he's dead and in his grave,

No master does he fear."