"Twister, get me a light, you lazy villain, don't you hear?"
"Yes, yes, massa, directly"—snore.
"Directly, you sleepy dog!—now, sir—get it me now. Don't you hear that I have broken my shin, and capsized the basin-stand, and I can't tell what besides?"
"Yes, yes, massa"—snore again.
I heard a door open, and presently a loud tumble, and a crackling and rattling of chairs, and startled cries from the negroes.
"Murder! Twig—where's your patent lucifer match box? Here have I fallen over that rascal of yours, and I am terrified to move, lest I break my own neck, or extinguish some black fellow out and out. Gemini! if my great toe has not got into some one's mouth. Hillo, Quashie, mind that's my toe, and not a yam. Oh dear, will no one get me a candle? Jacob, you cannibal, do come and rescue me, or I shall be smothered amidst this odoriferous and flat-nosed variety of the human species."
I had never spent such a morning, and as it was quite evident that there was no more sleep to be had, I got up and dressed the best way I could. We were soon all congregated in the inner hall by candle light, with half a dozen black fellows, and as many fowling-pieces, blunderbusses, and muskets as there were buccras, ready to sally forth to attack the teal.
Quacco was here, as elsewhere, the most active of the throng, and sideling up to me, "Massa, you and de old gentleman take de blonderboosh—I hab load dem bote wid one bushel of dock hail. You shall never see so much bird as you shall knock down—take dem, massa—take dem."
After coffee, we put ourselves en route and sallied out of the house.
"Why, uncle," said I, "I have no great stomach for the fight after what happened last night."