I laid holt and got the most of the supper myself, and it wuz a good one, if I hadn’t ort to say it.
Two plump spring fowls roasted to a delicate brown, some sliced potatoes warmed up in cream, some hot cream biscuit; and I had splendid luck with ’em—they wuz jest as light and flaky and tender as they could be. And some perfectly delicious coffee. I thought the fragrance of that coffee would steam up invitingly into Senator Coleman’s nostrils, after a hard day’s journey.
And if the relation had been on Thomas Jefferson’s side I couldn’t have set out to do better by him; I am good to my daughter-in-law—anybody will tell you so that has seen me behave to her.
Aunt Mela, the cook, by bendin’ all her energies onto ’em, had made a tomato salad and some veal croquettes. I hain’t partial to ’em, but want everybody to be suited in the line of vittles, and Maggie loves ’em.
And then on the sideboard wuz cake, and jellies, and fresh berries heaped up in crimson beauty on some china plates, and the table had posys on it and looked well.
The cook’s teeth stopped achin’ about the time the supper wuz all ready—it seemed to give its last hard jump about the time I made the biscuit. I had proposed to have her make ’em, but I see it wouldn’t do.
Wall, Maggie wuz delighted with the supper, and her relation eat more than wuz good for him, I wuz afraid—five wuz the number of the biscuit he consumed (they wuzn’t so very large), and three cups of coffee kep’ ’em company.
Maggie told him who made ’em, and he complimented me so warmly (though still high-headed) that Josiah looked cross as a bear.
Wall, the Senator seemed to like it at Belle Fanchon first rate; and as for Raymond Fairfax Coleman, he jest revelled in the warm home atmosphere and the lovin’ attentions that wuz showered down onto him.
Poor little motherless creeter! He played with Snow, lugged her dolls round for her, and dragged Boy in his little covered carriage, and seemed to be jest about as much of a baby as our Boy.