[CHAPTER X—WHAT HAPPENED IN THE MORNING]
“Eight o’clock, suh! A fine hot day—an’ yo’ baf is runnin’.”
Bill opened his eyes and stared upward from a soft pillow into the grinning face of an ancient negro.
“Ise Sam. Reckon Marse Osceola done tell yo’all ‘bout me. Yessuh—yo’ baf is runnin’.”
Bill stretched and sat up in bed. “Pinch me, Sam,” he yawned. “Did you really say ‘bath’—or am I still sound asleep?”
“No, suh, yo’ sure is awake, Marse Osceola has just got out o’ the tub. He done tol’ me to wake yo’all.” The old darkey seemed a bit flustered. “Ef yo’ll kindly tell me how yo’ likes yo’ eggs, Marse Bolton, I’ll go on in de kitchen and dish up breakfast.”
“Sam,” said Bill, springing out of bed. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, and your voice is music. Lead me to that bath you mentioned, and lead me quick. Real soap and clean water! Gee—it’s wonderful!”
“An’ de eggs, suh?”
“As long as they are fresh and there’s plenty of them, you cook them any way your heart desires.”
“Yessuh——I will, suh. De bathroom’s through dat door over yonder.”