Tom's programme. Aunt Patience was a
privileged character, whose comments upon people and things were free
and frequent; when she heard that a party of hunters, accompanied by
ladies, proposed to make the hall their temporary headquarters, her
remarks were ludicrously indignant.

"Well, ef dat Marse Tom ain't de beatinest white man dat I ever sot eyes
on--'way off yander givin' way his vittles fo' he buy um at de sto'!
How I know what Marse Tom want, an' tel I know, whar I gwineter git um?
He better be home yer lookin' atter deze lazy niggers, stidder
high-flyin' wid dem Jasper county folks. Ef dez enny vittles on dis
plan'ash'n, hits more'n I knows un. En he'll go runnin' roun' wid dem
harum-skarum gals twell I boun' he don't fetch dat pipe an' dat 'backer
what he said he would. Can't fool me 'bout de gals what grows up deze
days. Dey duz like dey wanter stan' up an' cuss dersef' case dey wuzent
borned men."

"Why, Aunt Patience, your Marse Tom says Miss de Compton is as pretty as
a pink and as fine as a fiddle."

"Law, chile! you needn't talk 'bout de gals to dis ole 'omen. I done
know um fo' you wuz borned. W'en you see Miss Compton you see all de
balance un um. Deze is new times. Marse Tom's mammy useter spin her
fifteen cents o' wool a day--w'en you see Miss Compton wid a hank er
yarn in 'er han', you jes' sen' me word."

Whereupon, Aunt Patience gave her head handkerchief a vigorous wrench,
and went her way--the good old soul--even then considering how she
should best set about preparing a genuine surprise for her young master
in the shape of daily feasts for a dozen guests. I will not stop here to
detail the character of this preparation or to dwell upon its success.
It is enough to say that Tom Tunison praised Aunt Patience to the
skies; and, as if this were not sufficient to make her happy, he
produced a big clay pipe, three plugs of real "manufac terbacker," which
was hard to get in those times, a red shawl, and twelve yards of calico.

The fortnight that followed the arrival of Tom's guests was one long to
be remembered, not only in the [v]annals of the Rockville Hunting Club
but in the annals of Rockville itself. The fair de Compton literally
turned the heads of old men and young boys, and even succeeded in
conquering the critics of her own sex. She was marvelously beautiful,
and her beauty was of a kind to haunt one in one's dreams. It was easy
to perceive that she had made a conquest of Tom, and I kn