,
and I'll take up de sausages, and have de first griddle full of cakes on
your plates in less dan no time."

"They wanted me to come to supper in the house," said George; "but I
knew what was what too well for that, Aunt Chloe."

"So you did--so you did, honey," said Aunt Chloe, heaping the smoking
batter-cakes on his plate; "you know'd your old aunty'd keep the best
for you. O, let you alone for dat! Go way!" And, with that, aunty gave
George a nudge with her finger, designed to be immensely facetious, and
turned again to her griddle with great briskness.

"Now for the cake," said Mas'r George, when the activity of the
griddle department had somewhat subsided; and, with that, the youngster
flourished a large knife over the article in question.

"La bless you, Mas'r George!" said Aunt Chloe, with earnestness,
catching his arm, "you wouldn't be for cuttin' it wid dat ar great heavy
knife! Smash all down--spile all de pretty rise of it. Here, I've got a
thin old knife, I keeps sharp a purpose. Dar now, see! comes apart light
as a feather! Now eat away--you won't get anything to beat dat ar."

"Tom Lincon says," said George, speaking with his mouth full, "that
their Jinny is a better cook than you."

"Dem Lincons an't much count, no way!" said Aunt Chloe, contemptuously;
"I mean, set along side _our_ folks. They 's 'spectable folks enough in
a kinder plain way; but, as to gettin' up anything in style, they don't
begin to have a notion on 't. Set Mas'r Lincon, now, alongside Mas'r
Shelby! Good Lor! and Missis Lincon,--can she kinder sweep it into a
room like my missis,--so kinder splendid, yer know! O, go way! don't
tell me nothin' of dem Lincons!"--and Aunt Chloe tossed her head as one
who hoped she did know something of the world.

"Well, though, I've heard you say," said George, "that Jinny was a
pretty fair cook."

"So I did," said Aunt Chloe,--"I may say dat. Good, plain, common
cookin', Jinny'll do;--make a good pone o' bread,--bile her taters
_far_,--her corn cakes isn't extra, not extra now, Jinny's corn cakes
isn't, but then they's far,--but, Lor, come to de higher branches, and
what _can_ she do? Why, she makes pies--sartin she does; but what kinder
crust? Can she make your real flecky paste, as melts in your mouth, and
lies all up like a puff? Now, I went over thar when Miss Mary was gwine
to be married, and Jinny she jest showed me de weddin' pies. Jinny and
I is good friends, ye know. I never said not