His fine presence, and familiar, if superior, address, put a new
complexion at once on the African end of the house.
He picked up all the children by twos or threes, woolled them, chased
them, tossed them, and drove the lurid images of Aunt Hominy's mind out
of their spirits, and then caught the two young girls, and set Roxy on
his shoulder, and caught Virgie by the waist, and finally piled them on
Aunt Hominy, who ran behind her biscuit-block, and he bunched all the
children upon the party.
"De Lord a massy, Judge!" exclaimed Aunt Hominy, delighted, and showing
her white teeth, whichever side she revealed. "Go 'long, Judge, Missy
Custis ketch you! Miss Vessy's a-comin', befor' de Lawd!"
The children were screaming, getting into the riot more, while
pretending to try to get out, invading the Judge's back, and rubbing
their clean wool into his whiskers, and the two neat servants, brought
up like white children in his family, were not unaccustomed to either
jovial handling or petting from their master, which he commonly
concluded by a present of some kind.
"Old woman," said the Judge to Aunt Hominy, "can you give me a bit of
broiled something for my stomach? I want to eat it right here."
"Ha! yah! Don't got nothin' but a young chicken, marster! Mebbe I kin
git ye a squab outen de pigeon-house in de gable-yend."
"That's it, Hominy!" exclaimed Judge Custis; "a tender squab, a little
toast in cream, a glass of morning milk, and a bunch of fresh celery,
will just raise my pulse, and put courage into me.
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