Mr. Wiggins adjusted his gold rimmed eyeglasses, fingered a moment the gold chain upon his immaculate shirt bosom, scratched his head a time or two with the point of his gold pencil and passed the statement to his lord and master.
"Ah, ha," exclaimed the carpet-bagger, "Four thousand three hundred and fifty-seven dollars and thirty-three and one-third cents, and not five thousand dollars as you have it, Mr. Seymour."
"Ah, very well" replied Mr. Seymour "You may settle by my calculation if you wish, if not the sale shall go on."
"Give me the paper and pencil, Mr. Wiggins, I will make the calculation for myself," said the carpet-bagger. "The result as you have it sir, is correct. Here is your money sir."
"Now, sir, I will show you the gate," replied the Colonel with asperity. "Good morning," and the two men locked arms and went away.
As the enraged man was entering the verandah, he was greeted unexpectedly and obsequiously by Joshua, with "Compliments, ole Marser. I have fotched you some long-necked gode seeds; spected yer would lak to hab dem, mars Jon."
"Yes, Yes, I am glad you remembered me Joshua. I thought my old slave had quite forgotten me," replied the Colonel.
"You mout hab spected dat ole masser, but I knowed all de time you wus de onliest fren I had in de wurrell," answered the old negro.
"I am surprised to see you looking so badly, Joshua. Why your hair is as white as cotton, and your clothes too are ragged and dirty, and there are great hollows in your cheeks; what have you done with yourself old man?"
The old negro dashed a great big tear from each eye as he replied hesitatingly, "Better ax tother fokeses dat ar questun, ole marsa; better ax de bosses at de kommissery; I'se been froo de froos sens I seed you sar, mommucked up monstrus, dat I is. Dem dar pizen'd carpet-baggers tole us cullud fokses ef we didn't do jess lak dey sed, dat dey was agwine to put us bak in slavery, und dey skeert us jam ni to def, dat dey did. Dey uprared a grate big sto in de town, und sakes alive! de moest lasses und horg meat und flower und backer, und sich lak yu nebber did see, mars Jon, und likker, too; und wun ob de bosses he cum to de do und sez, sez he boys, fetch yer happysaks und jimmyjons ebery Tuesday, und eberry Saddy nite de Lord sens und fill dem chok full. I clar marser, I felt jess lak I wus in Paradise, wid de angels er harpin pon golden harps und soppin lasses; und I took dat white man at his word, und I'se been on de rode twixt my house und de sto fur seben weeks, backards und forrards, a totin my ole jimmyjon un happy-sak; I clar pon my Marser in Heben, I haint eben got de rappins ob my finger from dat sto yit. De boss wud laf und say de rashuns had gin out fore I got dere, und to cum agin nex Tuesday sho; und mars Jon, I'se jess nachully a tired to def, widdout a moufful ob wittels in my house fur me nur Hanner nudder, und we bof a perishin to def. Ole marsa, hain't yer got nary ole ash tater, nur a leetle piece ob meat skin yer kin gib dis ole darky jess to pacify his stummik, seems lak I jess hab to draw my galluses rale tite roun it to keep it frum creepin fru my mouf."