embers what assistance he would render her in the very
grave business of catching pigeons, by creeping up behind them, and
sprinkling "a little fresh salt upon their tails." She has not
forgotten the happy Christmas mornings, when old Santa Claus was sure
to load her with presents; nor her school-girl parties, which would
have been no parties at all without "papa" to make fun for them; and
many other things, perhaps, which I never knew, or noticed, she could
tell you. But "grandma" remembers some things, which, as she wants you
to see "grandpa" just as he was, she will relate to you.

About this time, we had a dining-room waiter, who, one day, was
such a luckless wight as to be very impertinent to me. He was an
"exquisite," (in his way), although as black as the "ace of spades;"
wore a stiff shirt collar, that looked snow-white, from the contrast,
and combed his hair so nicely that it appeared as fleecy as
zephyr-worsted. He had, however, a habit of going off, without
anybody's knowing where, and staying a long time, neglecting his work,
and provoking "grandma." Upon his return, when she would inquire
where he had been, his answer invariably was, "To the barber's,
ma'am"--accompanied by a bow, and an odoriferous compound of barbarous
perfumes, presenting altogether such a ludicrous picture that I could
not possibly avoid laughing; after which, of course, I would have to
excuse him, with the mild injunction not to stay so long again. Anthony
presumed upon this mode of treatment until it ceased to be amusing to
me, when, with a good grace, I was enabled to administer a severe
reproof, which he returned with the most unheard-of impudence. As soon
as his master came in, I related the fact to him. In an instant, as
Anthony was passing the dining-room door, my husband sprang at
him--caught him by the collar, shook and twirled him around into the
gallery, and pounded him with his bare fists to his heart's content.
In this changing world, I do not know but that, in the course of
time, you little Southerners may become fanatical abolitionists, and,
losing sight, in the above case, of the cause of provocation, in your
tenderness and sympathy for the slave, will attribute this
unceremonious treatment of poor Anthony to the fact that he was one of
those "colored unfortunates." Therefore, to set you right, at least,
with regard to the character of your grandfather, I will give you
another instance of his impulsiveness, which, perhap