"No—it was under that thing on the shelf."
"How did he know it was kept there?"
This was what Mr. Tomah declined telling. We could never ascertain whether he had watched my movements at any time. No one had ever seen him in that part of the house, and yet scarcely an article could be mentioned of which Tomah did not know the whereabouts. If any one was puzzled to find a thing, it was always,—
"Ask Tomah—he will tell you." And so in fact he did.
He was a subject of much amusement to the young officers. We were to have a tea-party one evening—all the families and young officers from the Fort. To make Tomah's appearance as professional as possible, we made him a white apron with long sleeves to put on while he was helping Mary and Josette to carry round tea—for I must acknowledge that Tomah's clothes were not kept in as nice order out of the trunk as in it.
Tom was delighted with his new costume, as well as with the new employment. He acquitted himself to perfection, for he had never any difficulty in imitating what he saw another do. After tea we had some music. As I was standing by the piano, at which one of the ladies was seated, Lieutenant Vancleve said to me, in a low tone,—
"Look behind you a moment."
I turned. There sat Tom between two of the company, as stately as possible, with his white apron smoothed down, and his hands clasped before him, listening to the music, and on the best possible terms with himself and all around him. Julian and Edwin were hardly able to restrain their merriment, but they were afraid to do or say anything that would cause him to move before the company had had a full enjoyment of the scene. It was voted unanimously that Tomah should be permitted to remain and enjoy the pleasures of society for one evening; but, with characteristic restlessness, he got tired as soon as the music was over, and unceremoniously took his leave of the company.