Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1896-12-03

want one Of those parrot potpies, such
as you used to make when you cooked
for the governor. -
She pursed her fat lips up for a retort
uncompli1nentary, but just slipped
dollar into her greasy palm and her fea-
lures underwent q lightninglike change
Of expression.
'Oh, no, me massa. Ain no trouble
tall. Me likes to Go Go 7 'anksgibin.
God bless yo', massa. Heah. yo' Ebe.
neezer, yo' Horatio Come heah quick.
Step libely now. One OBJ 20 pluck dem
| pigeons. T'udder one shuck dem crab,
an dem crawfish. Gut heap OBJ things
toe do befo' termorrer by sun up. sho's
you'se Dawn niggers. =
There were toll and turmoil all night
long in the smoke begrimed cookhouse,
but i'll the morning, as fat old aunty
emerged with the coffee and crackers,
her face was shining and her head neatly
done up in freshly la,,:,aered bandanna
Of more hues than q rainbow ever dared
disport since the timo of Noah and the
| flood. She was ''as neat as PIN" and
her long train Of sable hued, half naked
attendants Of all ages, from to Is,
were as clean as a souse in the river
could make them. Breakfast was excel
cent, but it was merely a preliminary
spread to the dinner, which was served
at sunset, just as old Sol tipped us
last wink before he sank cred and
glowing from his all day Journey be-
meath the waters Of the Caribbean sea.
The table was set out Oh the broad We
randa near u sweet scented frangi-
panni and lighted with great candles
shielded from the evening breezes by
huge glass cylinders.
The youngest Of the children had been
| pat to bed, hut there were half dozen
left, who gazed expectantly upon the
array of glass and silver and behaved
like born princes of the blood. Aside
| from our own family there were three
poor neighbors who had seen better
days and a trembling old man, PEN
sioner upon the bounty Of my host
After all were seated, our entertainer
rose and proposed the health of the pres
ident of the United States, along with
that of the queen Of England, to whom
the colony of st. Vincent held allie
glance. This was drunk with will, ia
punch made from the planters own
rum, lines and sugar. Then, at signal
from the hostess, the sable procession
(Which had, individually, been peeking
in at all the doors and windows) was
| formed between the cookhouse and the
table. First there came in solemn
faced tot of or 10 years, bearing on
her head an immense tureen containing
crab soup a la Rutland Vale. She was
closely followed by a dozen other tod
dlings, each with a dish and a spoon,
which they deposited in front Of each
person and deftly removed when no
longer required. They had been we'll
; coached by the cook, and performed
their duties with admirable exactitude,
not making a single mistake. Like
procession Of woolly headed, two legged,
black $hts they marched in and out,
one line bearing food, the other empty
plates and platters
At last there was most extraordinary
hustle among the servants, and the line
OF walters divided right and left, while
two of the Largest darky boys marched
between their dusky ranks Each one
bore himself with an air Of exaggerated
| Importance, each ebon face was illumi-
| mated with a gorgeous grin Composed
Of vermilion and ivory white and each
bore aloft, held high above his woolly
pate dish of vast dimensions with a
crust atop Of appetizing crispiness.
These were the pies, the interior of one
being composed Of the pigeons I had
shot, the other of the parrots. After
they had been deposited the grinning
walters fastened back to the cookhouse
and soon returned bearing between
them a gigantic platter upon which,
brown and toothsome and garnished
with sprigs Of parsley. lay a handsome
turkey. Close behind this interesting
group waddled old Auntie Jude, herself
carrying smaller platter containing
pair OF guinea fowls, their rich brown
bosoms bursting with tenderness.
But have no space for details. It
was feast fit for the gods. And when
it was all over my friend and I sat
portion Of the night out on the veranda.
It was years ago, but still recall the
delicious fragrance Of the night air. ]
can still, in memory, see the nocturnal
vampires sweeping III and out the MIS-
pero trees and yet hear the subdued
cries of the night birds in the hills be-
hind the valley. And, mingled with the
sweet scents Of the tropic night, there
come to me however after the lapse
Df MAJ Evaars-tho cavOTV OdOrc of that
Thanksgiving feast in the faraway is