“‘Missus,’ sais I, ‘I will be wide awake; you may pend on me—eyes as big as two dog-wood blossoms, and ears open like mackarel.’
“‘What you got for dinner to-day?’ she say—jist as you say, Massa. Well, I tell her all ober, as I tells you, numeratin’ all I had. Den she picked out what she wanted, and mong dem I recklect was clams.’”
“Now tell us how you cooked the clams,” I said; “what’s the use of standing chattering all day there like a monkey?”
“Dat, Massa, now is jist what I is goin’ to do dis blessid minit. ‘Missus,’ sais I, ‘talkin’ of clams, minds me of chickens.’
“‘What on airth do you mean,’ sais she, ‘you blockhead; it might as well mind you of tunder.’
“‘Well, Missus,’ sais I, ‘now sometimes one ting does mind me of anoder ting dat way; I nebber sees you, Missus, but what you mind me ob de beautiful white lily, and dat agin ob de white rose dat hab de lubly color on his cheek.’
“‘Do go away, and don’t talk nonsense,’ she said, larfing; and when she larfed den I know she was pleased.
“‘So clams mind me of chickens.’
“‘And whiskey,’ she said.
“‘Well, it do, Missus; dat are a fac;’ and I helped myself agin dis way.”