"How, Dan'l?"
"By mah own fermometer, Mist' Ross, an' that's mah inside. Right about five minutes befo' noon, thar's a little knock that says 'Tap, tap,' Dan'l, yo're hungry.' An' that knockin's always right, Mistah Ross. Ah sho' is hungry right at that hyar time."
"It hasn't knocked yet, Dan'l, has it?"
"Ah hasn't felt it," he answered, "but Ah's got a feelin' that Ah can expect it now 'most any minute."
"Well," the younger lad answered, watching the black shadow of the pole as it stretched along the ground almost to his feet, "we'll find out how near right your inside is."
He took a piece of steel tape from his pocket and handed it to his chum.
"How long is it, Ross?" he asked. He bent down eagerly and watched the measuring of the shadow.
"Four feet, six inches," the older lad announced.
The negro looked at the shadow a moment and then burst into a hearty laugh.