“Dat’s so, ma’am. I done heard tell o’ dis genneman, too!” He turned his rolling eyes in unfeigned admiration upon Bill.
Bill glared at Dorothy. “Oho! so you put the spotlight on me, do you?” He cried in pretended anger.
But Ol’ Man River motioned toward the table which was set with tin cups and plates and a very much battered metal coffee pot.
“Supper’s ready, Missy. I’se sorry I ain’t got a cloth. ’P’raps yo’all won’t mind dis time. Now if yo’ an’ Marse’ Bill will tak’ yo’ chairs, I’ll serve it up quicker dan whistlin’.”
“But you’ve only set two places,” protested Dorothy.
Uncle Abe wagged his woolly pate. “It ain’t right fo’ an’ ol’ niggeh ter sit down wid de quality, Missy.”
“Stuff and nonsense! Put another cup and plate on the table, Bill, and another knife, fork and spoon. Uncle Abe’s going to eat with us, or I won’t touch a thing—and believe me, this food looks tempting!”
“Well, if yo’ puts it thataway, ma’am, I will take a bite.” Uncle Abe gave a mellow chuckle. “I sho’ duz love ham. De smell of it in de pan fair do make my mouf water!”
Dorothy took up the hot skillet from the hearth. “I’ll put the ham on the plates, Uncle Abe, if you’ll bring over that pan of hot bread you’ve got warming in the ashes.”
“Not hot bread, Dorothy,” corrected Bill, “—corn pone—real honest-to-goodness corn pone!”