“What can she want?” I asked myself. “What a strange creature!”
And there she stood, staring at me in the most unceremonious manner, her keen black eyes glancing obliquely to every corner of the room, which she examined with critical exactness.
Before I could speak to her, she commenced the conversation by drawling through her nose, “Well, I guess you are fixing here.”
I thought she had come to offer her services; and I told her that I did not want a girl, for I had brought one out with me.
“How!” responded the creature, “I hope you don't take me for a help. I'd have you to know that I'm as good a lady as yourself. No; I just stepped over to see what was going on. I seed the teams pass our'n about noon, and I says to father, 'Them strangers are cum; I'll go and look arter them.' 'Yes,' says he, 'do—and take the decanter along. May be they'll want one to put their whiskey in.' 'I'm goin to,' says I; so I cum across with it, an' here it is. But, mind—don't break it—'tis the only one we have to hum; and father says 'tis so mean to drink out of green glass.”
My surprise increased every minute. It seemed such an act of disinterested generosity thus to anticipate wants we had never thought of. I was regularly taken in.
“My good girl,” I began, “this is really very kind—but—”
“Now, don't go to call me 'gall'—and pass off your English airs on us. We are genuine Yankees, and think ourselves as good—yes, a great deal better than you. I am a young lady.”
“Indeed!” said I, striving to repress my astonishment. “I am a stranger in the country, and my acquaintance with Canadian ladies and gentlemen is very small. I did not mean to offend you by using the term girl; I was going to assure you that we had no need of the decanter. We have bottles of our own—and we don't drink whiskey.”
“How! Not drink whiskey? Why, you don't say! How ignorant you must be! may be they have no whiskey in the old country?”