“Miss Julia! Miss Julia! Miss Julia!”
“What is it, Julius?”
“O, Miss Julia! Miss Julia!”
“Speak, you idiot!”
“De goose, Miss Julia, de goose! See dar, see dar! Look, dat Yankee gwine ober de fence yonder wid de goose you's a-keepin' for Massa Colonel Bob!” Sure enough, Julius was right. While the ladies had been entertaining me on the piazza a straggling cavalryman had entered the yard. He had filled his canteen at the spring house. Then he interviewed Julius. Next he slipped into the cellar and raised a tub that was bottom-side up on the cellar bottom.
Under the tub he found the goose, which he seized by the neck. In a few seconds he had jumped over the fence to where his horse was standing, and without paying any attention to my shouts for him to “stop or drop that goose,” the blue-coated robber put spurs to his steed and disappeared down the road.
The goose was gone. Col. Bob's dinner was spoiled so far as that goose was concerned.
“Ladies—”
“Don't speak to me.”
“Nor me.”