"
"Goy!" rapidly spoke the fiddler. "Friend Custis--I know my heart does
not deceive me!--let me introduce you to the very essence of grand old
little Delaware: here is Bob Frame, the ardent spirit of our bar; this
is James Bayard, our misguided Democratic favorite; here is Charley
Marim and Secretary Harrington, and my esteemed friend Senator Ridgely,
and my cousin, Chief-justice Clayton. We are all here, and all honored
by such a rare guest. Goy!"
As the Judge went through the hand-shaking process, the tall, well-fed
host stooped to the convivial person again, and, with his hand to the
side of his mouth, and an air of solemn cunning, whispered:
"Where from?"
"Accomac, or Somerset, I reckon," muttered the other.
"Now," exclaimed the host, taking both of Judge Custis's hands, "how do
our dear friends all get along in Somerset and Accomac? Where _do_ you
call home now, Friend Custis? How are our old friends Spence and
Upshur, and Polk and Franklin and Harry Wise? Goy! how I love our
neighbors below."
There was a strength of articulation and physical emphasis in the
speaker that the Judge noted at once, and it was attended with a beaming
of the eyes and a fine fortitude of the large jaws that made him nearly
magnetic.
"And this is John M. Clayton?" said the Judge. "We are not so far off
that we have not fully heard of you. And now, since I belong to a
numerous family, let me identify myself, Clayton, as Daniel Custis, late
Judge on the Eastern Shore.
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