The dinner-bell sounded a short while after Jim had finished the
scrubbing operation, and I went to the table with an appetite I had not
felt for a week. My whole system seemed rejuvenated, and I am not sure
that I should, at that moment, have declined a wrestling match with
Heenan himself.
I found at dinner only the Overseer and the young son of Madam P----,
the Colonel and the lady being still at the cabin of the dying boy. The
dinner, though a queer mixture of viands, would not have disgraced,
except, perhaps, in the cooking, the best of our Northern hotels.
Venison, bacon, wild fowl, hominy, poultry, corn-bread, French
'made-dishes,' and Southern 'common doin's,' with wines and brandies of
the choicest brands, were placed on the table together.
'Dis, massa,' said Jim, 'am de raal juice; it hab ben in de cellar eber
since de house war built. Massa tole me to gib you some, wid him
complimen's.'
Passing it to my companions, we drank the Colonel's health in as fine
wine as I ever tasted.
I had taken an instinctive dislike to the Overseer at the
breakfast-table, and my aversion was not lessened by learning his
treatment of Sam; curiosity to learn what manner of man he was, however,
led me, towards the close of our meal, to 'draw him out,' as follows:--
'What is the political sentiment, sir, of this section of the State?'
'Wal, I reckon most of the folks 'bout har' is Union; they're from the
"old North," and gin'rally pore trash.
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