Hulda slightly raised her eyes, which Levin took to mean assent, and he said:
"Cannon's good enough for a body pore as me."
"You're a-goin' with Joe to-night, ain't you?"
"Yes'm, I b'leeves so."
"That's right, cousin. You'll git rich an' keep your chariot, yit. Captain Van Dorn's gwyn to head the party. As Levin Cannon, ole Patty's pore cousin, he'll look out fur you, son. Now have some o' my slappers, an' jowl with eggs, an' the best coffee from Cannon's Ferry. Huldy, gal, help yer Cousin Levin! He won't be your sweetheart ef you don't feed him good."
The breakfast was brought in by a white man with a face scratched and bitten, and one eye full of congested blood.
"Cy," Patty Cannon cried, "them slappers, I 'spect, you had hard work to turn with that red eye Owen Daw give you."
"I'll brown both sides of him yit, when I git the griddle ready for him," the man exclaimed, half snivelling.
"Before you raise gizzard enough for that, little Owen'll peck outen yer eyes, Cy, like a crow; he's game enough to tackle the gallows. You may git even with him thar, Cy."
The man turned his cowardly, serving countenance on Levin inquisitively, and looked sullen and ashamed at Hulda, who observed: