“Let me get you a glass of water,” interrupted the Don, moving towards the door.
“Ah, thank you, never mind.” And rising hastily, she made for the door with a precipitancy that vexed Alice; for she saw in it a pointed indication of unwillingness on Mary’s part to accept even this little service at the hands of the Don. She moved so rapidly that she had passed in at the door before the Don could reach it; but he, whether or not he interpreted her motives as Alice did, followed her within the house. Instantly the cloud that had passed over Alice’s face was gone, and a sudden smile shone forth. She sprang to her feet. “Why do we tarry here all the day? It is moved and seconded that we adjourn to the Hall. Fall in, company! Attention! Shoulder—I mean seize arms!” And skipping away from Charley, she laid hands upon Mr. Poythress (“You take Mrs. Poythress,” she had whispered to Charley; “that will make them all come”), and away they marched down the steps and across the lawn, towards the Hall, Alice leading with her rataplan, rataplan, and enacting a sort of combination of captain, drum-major, and vivandière.
Nothing so much delighted our slaves, in those days, as any jollity on the part of their masters. Happy and careless themselves, when they saw their betters unbend they realized more clearly, perhaps, that they were men and brothers.
“Lord ’a’ mussy!” cried Aunt Polly at the kitchen door, letting fall a dish-cloth.
“What dat, gal?” carelessly asked Uncle Dick, who sat breakfasting in his usual stately and leisurely fashion. Aunt Polly made no reply, being seized with a sudden paroxysm which caused her to collapse into half her normal stature. Straightening herself out again, and wiping her eyes with her apron, “Oh, Lord, how long!” she ejaculated, giving the door-sill two simultaneous flaps with slippers that were a world too wide. “What’s a-comin’ next? dat’s all I wants to know.” And she began to rock to and fro. Seeing her for the second time telescope into a three-foot cook:
“What de matter wid de gal?” said Uncle Dick, rising with dignity, and wiping his rather unctuous lips.
“’Fore Gaud,” cried his spouse, “I do b’lieve dat chile gwine to make everybody at Elmin’ton crazy befo’ she done. Mussiful heaven, jess look at ole mahrster, and he a-steppin’ high as a colt, and Miss Alice a-struttin’ jess like she had on a ridgimental unicorn, and a-backin’ and a-linin’ of ’em up wid her parasol! Forrard, march! Jess lissen at her sojer talk, and ain’t she a pretty little critter? No wonder Marse Charley ravin’ ’stracted ’bout her. Lor’, Dick, let de boy look!”
Zip, by a dextrous ducking of his head, had just evaded the sweeping palm of his chief. “What is dese young niggers a-comin’ to?” exclaimed this virtuous personage. “Boy, don’t you see dem flies.” And he pointed to the table he had just left. “And you a-gapin’ at de white folks, ’stid o’ mindin’ your business!”
One of the perquisites of Zip’s position as junior butler was waving a feather brush over the bald head of his senior when he sat at meat. Dick had elected him to this office on the plea of fotchin’ of him up in the way he should go; and, being a strict disciplinarian, had resented his abandoning the post of duty without orders.
Zip made a perfunctory dash, with his brush, at the flies,—whom, by the way, he somewhat resembled in disposition; for as you shall not ruffle the temper, or even hurt the feelings of one of these, during your afternoon nap, by a slap, be it ever so violent and contumelious, if it but miss him; so Zip-Moses accounted all blows that failed to reach that anvil-shaped head of his not as insults and injuries, but clear gain rather. Zip, therefore, was not long in finding his way back, on tiptoe, to where he could get a glimpse of what was going forward on the lawn; even as that reckless insect blanches not as he tickles the somnolent nose of a blacksmith; for hath he not his weather eye upon the doughty fist of his foe?