"Law's sakes! you heah agen? glad to see you; whar you come from dis time? Rochester! No, foh sure?—dis mawning?—you doan say so; that jes' beats me; to think I live to see a thing like that; it's a reg'lar steam-engine, aint it?"
"Sambo," called out a bystander, making fun of the old darkey, "do you know what you are looking at?"
"Well, if I doan, den I can't find out frum dis yere crowd."
"What do they call it, Sambo?" some one else asked.
"Sh-sh'h—that's a secret; an' if I shud tell you, you cudn't keep it."
"Is it yours?"
"I dun sole mine to Mistah Vand'bilt las' week; he name it de
White Ghos'—after me."
"You mean the Black Devil."
"No, I doan; he didn't want to hu't youah feelings; Mistah
Vand'bilt a very consid'rate man."
Sambo carried our things in, talking all the time.