"Now don't eat like you never got nothin' at home. Miz Mayfield, it's all put on with him."
A table cloth was spread on the ground and before the old man had tasted a morsel, he went about looking for someone, astray at the feast, who might not have brought a basket or received an invitation. He returned with Laz, Sim and Mag. The girl minced, nibbling at a chicken wing, and the boys pretended to be dainty, but when the girls were not looking, grabbed like a hired hand at a barbecue. After a time, when the sun had moved far around, Old Jasper wiped his knife on his trousers and remarked: "Wall, I don't know how the rest of you feel, but as for me I'm goin' off down thar summers in the holler an' take a nap."
Margaret protested, but a word from Mrs. Mayfield assured him that privilege, and he strode away, humming as he went. Laz and Mag "santered" off, Sim sprawled out to sleep, Tom and Lou bird-peeped at each other and Jim and Mrs. Mayfield sat on a log in a lace-work of sun and shade.
"This has been one of the happiest days of my life," she said. "I didn't know that there could be so much pleasure without incident. Ah, a quaint and plotless people, Mr. Reverend."
"There may be more plot than you think, ma'm. These folks all have their troubles. And on the hill-side where you see the white flower, blood runs sometimes. Uncle Jasper and I are about the last of our race—last of the men folks. Most of us have been killed."
"I don't see how that could be, Mr. Reverend. Such gentleness—"
"Don't be fooled in us, ma'm. We ain't been always blameless. Through our house old Satan has walked, leaving his tracks."
"Satan tempted the Son of Man, Mr. Reverend."
"Yes, ma'm; but didn't walk through His house, leaving of his tracks."