“It’s darkies,” cried Dick joyfully. “They will give us something to eat.”
They hurried forward. The old man stared at them as they approached him.
“Could you give us some breakfast, sir?” asked Dick. “We are willing to pay well for it. We are Unionists.”
“’Meriky,” called the old man excitedly, “hyar’s two ob Massa Linkum’s folks wantin’ sumthing ter eat. Yes, suh; kum in, suh. We’ll gib yer what we’ve got. Kum in!”
Gladly they entered. A bright looking colored woman surrounded by half a dozen pickaninnies of all ages and sizes from two to fifteen was busily preparing the morning meal. She bustled forward bowing and courtesying as they entered.
“Kum in an’ welcome,” she said. “Lawsie, you is one ob Massa Linkum’s sojers sho’ nuff. Hain’t neber seed one befo’. We all jest lubs Fadder Abraham, suh.”
“And the horse?” said Dick suggestively.
“Dat’s all right, suh. Hyar, Geo’ge Washington! Done yer see de gem’man’s hoss a stan’ing dere? Gib him sum fodder.”
With homely but cheerful hospitality they pressed the viands upon them. It seemed to Jeanne that nothing had ever tasted so good before, and she could not but gaze in wonder at the quantity of hominy, molasses, cornbread and rye coffee that Dick managed to stow away.
“What would it have been if he hadn’t eaten the green persimmons,” she wondered.