fur a taste o' possum meat. 'Tain't jes' a fashionable dish now, I
reckon," he continued, reaching out for a potato; "Susan heah kindah
turns up her nose et 'possum, an' I reckon Mar'm Gilcrest would die
away et the sight uv 'possum meat on her table, but----"

The mention of Mrs. Gilcrest acted as a challenge to Mrs. Rogers. "Jane
Gilcrest's a fine somebody to turn up her nose et 'possum! A purty mess
her table'd be, fur all its silver spoons an' fine chaney, ef she hed
the settin' uv it.--Tommy, don't spill thet gravy on the tablechoth.
I'll send you'n' Buddy to the kitchen ef you can't eat lak white
folks!--She puffs herse'f on bein' a Temple, an' claims they wuz uv the
bluest blood in Virginny. Frum the way she spouts 'bout her
generalgies, her fambly tree must be ez fine an' big ez thet ole elm
down thah by the spring-house; but be thet ez it may, she's a pore limb
offen any fambly tree, with her sheftless ways.--Rache, fotch in some
moah hom'ny.--Gilcrest's got the finest house in these parts, and----"

"Yes," interrupted her husband, "the logs is weathahboa'ded an' the
walls plarstahed, an' thah's big porches with pillahs an' lots o' fine
fixin's 'roun' the cornish. The weathahboa'din' an' shingles an' door
an' windah frames wuz brung frum Pittsburg to Limestone on flatboats,
an' wagoned through frum thah. Sam Carr did the wag'nin'! 'Twuz a big
undahtakin', but he made money on it."

"The furnicher's ez fine ez the house," went on Mrs. Rogers. "Thar is a
boughten cairpit in the parlor, an' mahog'ny sofy an' cheers.--Lucindy,
wipe yer knife on yer bread befoh he'pin' yo'se'f to buttah. Can't I
nevah l'arn you no mannahs?"

"They have a big music-piece with ivory keys, and Miss Abby's teaching
Betsy to play on it," said Susan, forgetting her shyness, and her blue
eyes shining at the recollection of this wonder.

"Yes, it's all mighty fine, an' I'm shore I don't begrudge any uv it:
an' now thet Miss Abby hez come to live thar an' Betsy's gittin' to be
a big gal, things is bettah looked aftah," Mrs. Rogers conceded. "The
heft o' manidgment falls on Betsy an' Miss Abby, fur Jane hain't no
more faculty then a grasshopper.--Lucy, don't eat with yer fingers lak
a niggah. Whut's yer knife fur, ef it ain't to eat with?--I wuz ovah
there last spring, 'long in April or May, an' axed Jane ef she'd got
her soap grease made up. She looked et me onconsarned lak, an' says she
really didn't know; ole Dilsey allus looked aftah