“Mmmm—” she exclaimed with eyes dancing, “hurry up, Uncle Abe, I just can’t wait!”
“Dey ain’t no butter,” explained Uncle Abe, “but if yo’all puts some o’ dis ham gravy over it, I reckon yo’ll fin’ yo’ kin eat it.”
“Ho, that’s the best way to eat it!” cried Bill. “Used to have it that way when I lived at Annapolis. If there’s anything that tastes better, I’ve yet to find it. And look, Dorothy, we’ve got molasses to sweeten our coffee! Uncle Abe sure does set a real southern table.”
The old man chuckled happily as they sat down to the meal.
“Marse Johnson done give me dat ’lasses,” he said as he filled the coffee cups from the battered pot. “He de big boss o’ de reservation. I don’t mind tellin’ yo’all, ma’am, if Marse Johnson didn’t wink at Ol’ Man River a-livin’ in dis hyar cabin, dis niggeh sho’ would be in a bad way. But dese reservation folks is no white trash. Dey knowed ’bout Marse Joyce turnin’ me loose after I’d worked fo’ him all dese years. I did odd jobs for ’em dis summer, an’ a while back, Marse Johnson, he ’lowed I could have de cabin, now it’s gettin’ kinda chilly fo’ de ol’ man to sleep in de barn.”
“That was pretty decent of him,” remarked Bill, with his mouth full of fried ham and hot corn pone. “But who is this Mr. Joyce you speak of, Uncle?”
Ol’ Man River wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Dat man’s name ez John J. Joyce, Marse Billy. He’s got dat big place on de ridge over yonder nexter Hilltop, Marse Conway’s ol’ home. I worked fo’ Marse Joyce fo’ ’bout ten years—eveh sence I come up no’th from Virginny where dis ol’ niggeh was raised.”
“And he let you go after you’d worked for him all that time?” cried Dorothy, setting down her coffee cup. “I call that rotten mean!”
“Yaas, ma’am—John J. Joyce is sho’ a hard man. I wuz one o’ de gard’ners on de’ ’state. One noon he calls us all up ter de big house. ‘Men,’ he say, standin’ on de gall’ry steps, ‘times is hard an’ they’s gwine ter be harder. I’se got ter do my bit fer dis ’ere depresshun like eve’y one else. Dat is why I’se a-cuttin’ you down from six ter three. De three what am de oldest can clear out. Dey ain’t wu’th as much ter me.’”