“Found anything to wash it down with?”
“There was a dozen bottles of beer, but we wanted those between whiles, and I guess they’re drunk.”
“There should have been more, but I suppose my lousy steward has necked them. However, this is a big night, and this is the first time I’ve seen you and your mates, and so I guess champagne’ll be good enough for us. There’s a case in that end room ready a-purpose for this sort of celebration day. Perhaps you’ll fetch it out; I’m weak still.”
Hank obeyed, wonderingly, and laid the table, and brought on the viands, in which he was assisted by Nutt and the blacks.
Then Captain Kettle spoke again.
“Oh, look here, friends, I’m not going to sit at table with niggers. I take it this isn’t a blessed missionary meeting.”
It seemed as though there would be a row. One of the blacks stated his intention of taking no “sass from that po’ white trash,” and another openly drew a razor, and made suggestive motions with it through the air.
“Of course,” said Kettle, “if you two gentlemen have chucked your color, and care to feed with those ornaments, you can do it. Only I’m a white man, and have my pride.”
“That’s right,” said Nutt. “Picnicking on the sloop’s different. But this is a regular hotel supper, with napkins and a table-cloth, and I guess anything colored ’ud spoil the tone. Say s-s-s-sonnies, you mosey.”
“I done cooked most this yer grub,” whined he of the razor, “an’ I’se gwine t’eat my belly-load.”