remark more
particularly to an old gentlemen who in ruffles and red velvet sat with
crossed legs in a high-backed chair just over the piano. "Heah me an'
Marse Nat an' Miss Margaret been gittin' long all dese years easy an'
peaceable, an' Marse Jeff been comin' over sociable all de time, an'
d' ain' been no trouble nor nuttin' till now dat ole ooman what ax mo'
questions 'n a thousan' folks kin answer got to come heah and set up
to Marse Nat, an' talk to him so he cyarn hardly eat." He rose from
his knees at the hearth, and looking the old gentleman over the piano
squarely in the face, asserted, "She got her mine sot on bein' my
mistis, dat's what 'tis!" This relieved him so that he returned to his
occupation of "chunking" the fire, adding, "When women sets de mines on
a thing, you jes' well gin up!"

So intent was he on relieving himself of the burden on his mind that he
did not hear the door softly open, and did not know any one had entered
until an enthusiastic voice behind him exclaimed:

"Oh! what a profound observation!" George Washington started in much
confusion; for it was Miss Jemima, who had stolen away from the table to
intercept him at his task of "fixing the fires." She had, however, heard
only his concluding sentence, and she now advanced with a beaming smile
intended to conciliate the old butler. George Washington gave the hearth
a final and hasty sweep, and was retiring in a long detour around Miss
Jemima when she accosted him.

"Uncle George."

"Marm." He stopped and half turned.

"What a charming old place you have here!"

George Washington cast his eye up towards the old gentleman in the
high-backed chair, as much as to say, "You see there? What did I tell
you?" Then he said briefly:

"Yes, 'm."

"What is its extent? How many acres are there in it?"

George Washington positively started. He took in several of the family
in his glance of warning.

"Well, I declare, marm, I don't know," he began; then it occurring
to him that the honor of the family was somehow at stake and must
be upheld, he added, "A leetle mo' 'n a hundred thousan', marm." His
exactness was convincing. Miss Jemima threw up her hands:

"Prodigious! How many nee---- how many persons of the African blood are
there on this vast domain?" she inquired, getting nearer to her point.

George, observing how much she was impressed, eyed her with rising
disdain:

"Does you mean niggers, m'm? 'Bout three thousan', mum."

Anoth