Main 6—The White House!
CHAPTER X
CAUGHT ON THE WIRES
Dick was up betimes the next morning, stopping only long enough to swallow a cup of coffee and a plate of oatmeal. Then calling a cheery good-by to Mrs. Brisbane, he banged out of the front door and down the steps in such haste that he collided violently with “Uncle” Andy Jackson, the Brisbane factotum, who was busy shoveling the snow off the steps.
“Laws, Marse Dick,” groaned Uncle Andy, picking himself up carefully. “’Pears like yo’ am in a hurry.”
“Awfully sorry, Uncle,” said Dick, helping the old man to his feet. “Here,” thrusting some loose change into the ready palm, “buy some liniment for the bruises. Whew! I didn’t realize it snowed so much last night.”
As far as the eye could see the large, old-fashioned gardens, which surround the old houses in Georgetown, were covered with banks of snow, an unusual sight in the Capital City. In some places the drifts were waist high.
“Plenty mo’ snow fo’ ole Andy to shovel,” grumbled the old man, who dearly loved the sound of his own voice, and seized every opportunity to talk to Dick, whom he especially admired because he belonged to “de quality.” “’Pears like de sky am a-tryin’ ter whitewash dis hyer wicked city. Las’ night, sah, I went to hear de Reverend Jedediah Hamilton. He sho’ am a powerful preacher. He says Satan am a-knocking at de gates ob Washington; dat it am a whitened sepulcher; an’ dat we all am a-gwine ter perdition. Hadn’t yo’ better git religion, Marse Dick?”
“Oh, I’m not worrying just now, Uncle. You see, my brother John is a minister of the Gospel, and I guess he’ll intercede for me.”
“’Twon’t do, Marse Dick; de Good Book it say: ‘Every man shall bear his own burden and every tongue shall stand on its own bottom.’”
Dick waved his hand in farewell as he plunged through the drifts to cross the street. Uncle Andy watched the tall, athletic figure out of sight; then shook his head solemnly.