ve you choice for supper, to-night? We want something ripe for
the palate-none of your leavings, now, you infernal nigger, and don't
tell us none of your lies."

"Birds, sir, grouse, woodcock, partridge, canvas-backs, and quails;
meats, venison, and oysters, master-did up in any shape what the
gentlemen wish. Wines, &c., if they want," replied the servant, without
any of the negro dialect, at the same time making a low bow to Master
George.

"Name it! name your dishes, gentlemen! Don't be backward. I suppose
his birds are as usual, without age to flavor them. It's perfectly
heathenish to eat birds as they are served here: we never get a bird
here that is sufficiently changed to suit a gentleman o' taste; their
beef's tough, and such steak as they make is only fit for shoemakers and
blacksmiths. I never come into the place but I think of my journey in
France, where they know the style and taste of a gentleman, and things
are served to suit your choice." Thus our little friend continued
his connoisseur remarks, to give the Captain a particular idea of
his proficiency in the requisite qualities, age, and time of keeping
necessary to make the adjuncts of a supper fit for a gentleman. "D--me!
we don't know when edibles are choice, and the Yankees are perfect
brutes in these things, and have no more taste than a cow. Our folks
ought to all go to France for a year or two, to learn the style of
cooking. It's perfect murder to eat a bird the very day after it's
killed; yes, sir! no man that considers his stomach will do it," said
George.

The servant waited impatiently-the Captain rubbed his eyes, and began
to pour out a glass of water; and dryly said he'd no choice, which was
responded to by the rest. It was left to Master George, and he ordered
a bountiful supply of grouse, partridges, oyster, and champagne of
his favourite brand-none other. There was also a billiard-room,
reading-room, a room for more important gambling, and a bar-room,
up-stairs. All these were well filled with very well-dressed and very
noisy people; the latter being a very convenient place, the party sent
to it for tipplers to fill up time.

"This is but a small portion of what constitutes life in Charleston,
Captain. We live for living's sake, and don't stand upon those blueskin
theories of temperance and religion that Yankees do, and blame the
Father of generations for not making the world better. I never saw
one of them that wasn't worse than we So