A Gentleman Vagabond and Some Others | Page 4

when Hardy or some of my friends are lucky
enough to hit one, but no meat that is wo'th the cookin'. By the bye, I've
come to take Jack home with me; the early strawberries are in their
prime, now. You will join us, of course?"
Before I could reply, Jefferson entered the room, laid a tray of cigars
and cigarettes with a small silver alcohol lamp at my elbow, and, with a
certain inquiring and, I thought, slightly surprised glance at the major's

sprawling attitude, noiselessly withdrew. The major must have caught
the expression on Jefferson's face, for he dropped his telescope leg, and
straightened up his back, with the sudden awkward movement of a
similarly placed lounger surprised by a lady in a hotel parlor. The
episode seemed to knock the enthusiasm out of him, for after a moment
he exclaimed in rather a subdued tone:--
"Rather remarkable nigger, this servant of Jack's. I s'pose it is the
influence of yo' New York ways, but I am not accustomed to his kind."
I began to defend Jefferson, but he raised both hands in protest.
"Yes, I know--education and thirty dollars a month. All very fine, but
give me the old house-servants of the South--the old Anthonys, and
Keziahs, and Rachels. They never went about rigged up like a stick of
black sealing-wax in a suit of black co't-plaster. They were easy-goin'
and comfortable. Yo' interest was their interest; they bore yo' name,
looked after yo' children, and could look after yo' house, too. Now see
this nigger of Jack's; he's better dressed than I am, tips round as solemn
on his toes as a marsh-crane, and yet I'll bet a dollar he's as slick and
cold-hearted as a high-water clam. That's what education has done for
him.
"You never knew Anthony, my old butler? Well, I want to tell you, he
was a servant, as was a servant. During Mrs. Slocomb's life"--here the
major assumed a reminiscent air, pinching his fat chin with his thumb
and forefinger--"we had, of co'se, a lot of niggers; but this man
Anthony! By gravy! when he filled yo' glass with some of the old
madeira that had rusted away in my cellar for half a century,"--here the
major now slipped his thumb into the armhole of his vest,--"it tasted
like the nectar of the gods, just from the way Anthony poured it out.
"But you ought to have seen him move round the table when dinner
was over! He'd draw himself up like a drum-major, and throw back the
mahogany doors for the ladies to retire, with an air that was
captivatin'." The major was now on his feet--his reminiscent mood was
one of his best. "That's been a good many years ago, colonel, but I can
see him now just as plain as if he stood before me, with his white

cotton gloves, white vest, and green coat with brass buttons, standin'
behind Mrs. Slocomb's chair. I can see the old sidebo'd, suh, covered
with George III. silver, heirlooms of a century,"--this with a trance-like
movement of his hand across his eyes. "I can see the great Italian
marble mantels suppo'ted on lions' heads, the inlaid floor and
wainscotin'."--Here the major sank upon the divan again, shutting both
eyes reverently, as if these memories of the past were a sort of religion
with him.
"And the way those niggers loved us! And the many holes they helped
us out of. Sit down there, and let me tell you what Anthony did for me
once." I obeyed cheerfully. "Some years ago I received a telegram from
a very intimate friend of mine, a distinguished Baltimorean,--the Nestor
of the Maryland bar, suh,--informin' me that he was on his way South,
and that he would make my house his home on the followin' night."
The major's eyes were still shut. He had passed out of his reverential
mood, but the effort to be absolutely exact demanded concentration.
"I immediately called up Anthony, and told him that Judge Spofford of
the Supreme Co't of Maryland would arrive the next day, and that I
wanted the best dinner that could be served in the county, and the best
bottle of wine in my cellar." The facts having been correctly stated, the
major assumed his normal facial expression and opened his eyes.
"What I'm tellin' you occurred after the war, remember, when putty
near everybody down our way was busted. Most of our niggers had run
away,--all 'cept our old house-servants, who never forgot our family
pride and our noble struggle to keep up appearances. Well, suh, when
Spofford arrived Anthony carried his bag to his room, and when dinner
was announced, if it was my own table, I must say that it cert'ly did
fa'rly groan with the