“Harris,” said the third guest, “you’ve garnished that moose-tongue with green asparagus. Looks almighty appetizing. Where did you get it?”
“Wai, massa, I tell you. I cut it myself in de cane-brake in de nex’ ravine. De Good Lord hab started a ’sparagus plantation dere, sure ’nuf,” and a broad smile spread over Harris’s face like sunshine. He had really done his best to prepare a feast for his master and now he was happy because his master was pleased.
“Gentlemen, fall to,” the captain urged. “We have here the very best dinner Vicksburg has to offer. The Planters Hotel could not beat it, if President Davis himself was the guest of the city.”
By this time the boys had recovered from their embarrassment because they saw the men all acting like happy boys. They had never suspected that their fatherly friend, Barker, was so much of a boy, who could laugh and cut up.
They fell to as heartily as all the older boys, although the scene of Old Harmony’s team of six rolling down the bluff at Fort Ridgely flashed through their minds.
“It tastes just like beef-tongue,” Tim remarked to Bill.
For the present, both host and guests forgot the dangers, the sufferings and the horrors of war. They were all just boys at dinner.
When the company one after the other, began to sniff at the odor of coffee, Captain Dent called aloud for Harris.
“Look here, you black rascal,” he accosted the surprised cook, “what are you making that smell of coffee with? There hasn’t been any coffee in town for a week.”
“Massa, dat coffee smell is sure no ghost. Dat hunter geman from de North gib it to me and some sugar, too.”