“Cook say ast Marse George an’ Martha. Dey knows better’n we-all.”
“Oh, yes, I remember, mother. When our cousins arrived they felt very weak and hungry, so I suggested a little bite, to keep them up till tea was served. I found the dish of cookies the most convenient, and, not wishing to disturb the cook, who was busy, I insisted upon their having a few,” explained George.
And Martha hastily added: “Naturally, not wishing to make our visitors feel that they were giving us any trouble, we ate some cakes, too, to make them feel at home.”
“Well, the cakes felt very much at home, I’m sure!” laughed Mrs. Davis, who was accustomed to these escapades, as well as Mrs. Parke.
“But that need not deprive you ladies of the jam, you know!” hinted Jack.
“Nor uv dis ice cream dat cook sent up fer de two ladies t’ tek de place uv dem cakes!” added Katy significantly, placing a deep dish of French cream before each one of the ladies.
The children stared aghast at such partiality, and then looked at each other, wondering if they would have had ice cream, had they not eaten the cakes.
At the discovery that no cakes or jam were to be served at that tea, Jim silently disappeared from the friendly portières, and soon after appeared in the culinary department, watching for an opportunity to snatch a slice of bread and butter when his mammy’s back was turned. And, oh joy! An apple was right there by the homely chunk of bread. In another moment Jim and the apple were gone, and when mammy turned to put the apple in the barrel, the place knew it no more!
[CHAPTER III—MARTHA CUSTIS’ STORY]
Many eager eyes opened the following morning to a dismal sight. Rain fell as if it meant to wash away everything on top of the earth. It continued to rain all morning, and it thus behooved the ladies to provide amusement indoors for the active children.