brought the biscuits, but she did it promptly. No sooner had she served them, however, than the Captain saw she really had returned with a new line of defense.
She mumbled it out as usual, so that her employer was forced to guess at a number of words: “Dat nigger, Peter, mus' 'a' busted yo' gl—”
“No, he didn't.”
“Mus' uv.”
“No, he didn't. I asked him, and he said he didn't.”
The old harridan stared, and her speech suddenly became clear-cut:
“Well, 'fo' Gawd, I says I didn't, too!”
At this point the Captain made an unintelligible sound and spread the butter on his hot biscuit.
“He's jes a nigger, lak I is,” stated the cook, warmly.
The Captain buttered a second hot biscuit.
“We's jes two niggers.”
The Captain hoped she would presently sputter herself out.
“Now look heah,” cried the crone, growing angrier and angrier as the reaches of the insult spread itself before her, “is you gwine to put one o' us niggers befo' de udder? Ca'se ef you is, I mus' say, it's Kady-lock-a-do' wid me.”
The Captain looked up satirically.
“What do you mean by Katie-lock-the-door with you?” he asked, though he had an uneasy feeling that he knew.
