"God bless you, Master John." They parted at length at the door of the cabin which had seen no other parting as sad.
The black lay down again.

Now and then he swept his sleeve across tearful eyes.

Then he stowed his money under his shirt in a linen bag hung to his neck, keeping out a few dollars, and at last fell sound asleep exhausted by emotion, Josiah's customers were few in number.

Westways was too poor to be able to afford a barber more than once a week, and then it was always in mid-morning when work ceased for an hour.

Sometimes the Squire on his way to the mills came to town early, but as a rule Josiah went to Grey Pine and shaved him while they talked about colts and their training.