But it was not Chad who opened the door on this particular morning. That worthy darky was otherwise occupied; in the kitchen, really, plucking the feathers from the canvas-back ducks. They had been part of the dear lady’s impedimenta, not to mention a huge turkey, a box of terrapin, and a barrel of Pongateague oysters, besides unlimited celery, Tolman sweet potatoes, and a particular brand of hominy, for which Fairfax County was famous.
I say it was not Chad at all who opened the door and took my card, but a scrap of a pickaninny about three feet high, with closely-cropped wool, two strings of glistening white teeth—two, for his mouth was always open; a pair of flaring ears like those of a mouse, and two little restless, wicked eyes that shone like black diamonds: the whole of him, with the exception of his cocoanut of a head, squeezed into a gray cloth suit bristling with brass buttons and worsted braid, a double row over his chest, and a stripe down each seam of his trousers.
Aunt Nancy’s new servant!
The scrap held out a silver tray; received my card with a dip of his head, threw back the door of the dining-room, scraped his foot with the flourish of a clog dancer, and disappeared in search of his mistress.
Chad stepped from behind the door, his face in a broad grin. He had crept up the kitchen stairs, and had been watching the boy’s performance from the rear room. His sleeves were rolled up and some of the breast feathers of the duck still stuck to his fingers.
“Don’t dat beat de lan’! Major,” he said to me. “Did ye see dem buttons on him? Ain’t he a wonder? Clar to goodness looks like he’s busted out wid brass measles. And he a-waitin’ on de Mist’iss! I ain’t done nothin’ but split myself a-laughin’ ever since he come. MY!!!” and Chad bent himself double, the tears starting to his eyes.
“What’s his name, Chad?”
“Says his name’s Jeems. Jeems, mind ye!” Here Chad went into another convulsion. “Jim’s his real name, jes’ Jim. He’s one o’ dem Barbour niggers. Raised down t’other side de Barbour plantation long side of our’n. Miss Nancy’s been down to Richmond an’ since I been gone she don’t hab nobody to wait on her, an’ so she tuk dis boy an’ fixed him up in dese Richmond clothes. He says he’s free. Free, mind ye! Dat’s what all dese no count niggers is. But I’m watchin’ him, an’ de fust time he plays any o’ dese yer free tricks on me he’ll land in a spell o’ sickness,” and Chad choked himself with another chuckle.