His coachman came up, looking red in the face, as though out of humor.
"I think I must leave you, Mr. Jackman," said he.
"Why, what's wrong, Thomas?"
"I don't like to complain, sir, but really I can't stand the missus."
"Oh, is that it—she's too strict, eh?" laughed Jackman.
"Yes, sir, she keeps forgetting that I can throw up my job at any time, and bosses me around just as if I was you, sir."
I thought it good manners to get behind the stable before I allowed myself to laugh.
But Thomas went all the same.
Jackman told me Thomas had recently got religion and was about the longest-winded petitioner at prayer he ever knew. But I had been South among the darkies, and remembered one old fellow, at least, who could give him points and still win out.