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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Colonel Carter of Cartersville"

" And he heaped
up another pile of shells.
"Fust night de jedge come he tol' de colonel dat Miss Nancy say we all
got to come home when de month's up, railroad or no railroad. Dat was
a week ago. Den de jedge tasted dat Madary Mister Grocerman sent, an'
I ain't yerd nuffin' 'bout goin' home since. Is you yerd, Major?"
Before I could answer, a shutter opened overhead and a voice came
sifting down.
"O Chad! Mix me a julep. And, Chad, bring an extra one for the colonel.
I reckon he'll be yer d'reckly."
"Yes, sah," replied Chad, without lifting his eyes from the pan.
Then glancing up and finding the blind closed again, he said to me in
a half-whisper:--
"Colonel get his julep when he ax fur it. I ain't caayin' no double
drinks to nobody. Dis ain't no camp-meetin' bar."
But Chad's training had been too thorough to permit of his refusing
sustenance or attention to any guest of his master's, no matter how
unworthy, and it was not many minutes before he was picking over "de
ba'el" containing that peculiar pungent variety of plant so common to
the graveyards of Virginia.


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