“I 'specs I see somebody blush at dat remark,” said Alfred.
“Pass dem pancakes an' 'lasses up dis way, Mr. Alf., and none ob your 'sinuwashuns here,” rejoined Sam.
“Dat reminds me,” said Agnes, “dat Dorcas Simpson is gwine to git married.”
“Who to, I want to know?” inquired Peter.
“To one of Mr. Darby's field-hands,” answered Agnes.
“I should tink dat gal wouldn't frow herseff away in dat ar way,” said Sally. “She's good lookin' 'nough to git a house-servant, and not hab to put up wid a field-nigger.
“Yes,” said Sam, “dat's a werry unsensible remark ob yourn, Miss Sally. I admires your judgment werry much, I 'sures you. Dar's plenty ob susceptible an' well-dressed house-serbants dat a gal ob her looks can git widout takin' up wid dem common darkies.”
The evening's entertainment concluded by Sam's relating a little of his own experience while with his first master, in old Kentucky. This master was a doctor, and had a large practice among his neighbors, doctoring both masters and slaves. When Sam was about fifteen years old, his master set him to grinding up ointment and making pills. As the young student grew older and became more practised in his profession, his services were of more importance to the doctor. The physician having a good business, and a large number of his patients being slaves,—the most of whom had to call on the doctor when ill,—he put Sam to bleeding, pulling teeth, and administering medicine to the slaves. Sam soon acquired the name among the slaves of the “Black Doctor.” With this appellation he was delighted; and no regular physician could have put on more airs than did the black doctor when his services were required. In bleeding, he must have more bandages, and would rub and smack the arm more than the doctor would have thought of.
Sam was once seen taking out a tooth for one of his patients, and nothing appeared more amusing. He got the poor fellow down on his back, and then getting astride of his chest, he applied the turnkeys and pulled away for dear life. Unfortunately, he had got hold of the wrong tooth, and the poor man screamed as loud as he could; but it was to no purpose, for Sam had him fast, and after a pretty severe tussle out came the sound grinder. The young doctor now saw his mistake, but consoled himself with the thought that as the wrong tooth was out of the way, there was more room to get at the right one.
Bleeding and a dose of calomel were always considered indispensable by the “old boss,” and as a matter of course, Sam followed in his footsteps.