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"What's your college?" yelled Jimmie, hoping they were Americans. "Princeton!" they yelled back. With that Jimmie ripped open a long pole he was carrying, and the stars and stripes floated out over our shell. The Princeton crew shipped their oars, snatched off their caps, and responded by giving their college yell, ending with "Old Glo-ree!
"Don' yo' worry 'bout me none; I'll be cropin' down erbout noon." But Mrs. MacCall would not hear to his moving. Then Tess and Dot carried up his hot breakfast on one of the best trays, with a nice white napkin laid over it. "Glo-ree! Chillen, yo' mak' a 'ninvalid out o' Unc' Rufus, an' he nebber wanter git up out'n hes baid at all.
I was big 'nuff to he'p mammy, and it was in dat kitchen I begin ter l'arn ter be a house sarbent. "Well, chillen, I kep' my two eyes open, an' I sabed de sauce from burnin', an' de roun' 'taters from bilin' over, an' de onions from sco'chin' an' de sweet-er-taters f'om bein' charcoal on one side an' baked raw on de odder. Glo-ree! dat was one 'citin' day in dat kitchen.
"Mars' Colby stick his fo'k in de goose an' heave him over in de plattah. Glo-ree! dar de under side ob dat goose were all nice an' brown; but dar warn't no sign ob a laig erpon hit! "'Wha' dis? Wha' dis? Mars' Colby cry. 'Who been a-tamperin' wid dis goose? Sen' dat no-'count Sally Alley in yeah dis minute! he say to one ob de waitresses. "Glo-ree! how scar't we all was.
Can't you fashion a harness and some kind of a cart for him so that we can take turns riding Dot and me? He used to draw Sam Pinkney." "Glo-ree!" grumbled the colored man again. "I kin see where I got my han's full wid disher goat I do!" "But you can, Uncle Rufus?" said Tess. "Oh, yes, chile. I s'pect so.
He was evidently assured of the quality of Tess Kenway's kindness. "He likes me," declared Tess, with conviction. "Glo-ree!" ejaculated a deep and unctuous voice, on the heels of Tess' declaration. "Wha's all dis erbout heh! Glo-ree! Who done let dat goat intuh disher yard? Ain' dat Sam Pinkney's ol' Billy?"
Dere was a no-'count yaller gal, Sally Alley dey call her, wot he'ped erbout de breakfas' an' sech; but she warn't a sho' 'nuff cook naw'm! "She 'lowed she was. She was de beatenes' gal for t'inkin' she knowed eberyt'ing. But, glo-ree! dar wasn't nobody on dat plantation wot could cook er goose tuh suit Mars' Colby lak' my ol' mammy.
You know you said yourself there were hundreds before Sandyface and her children came." "Glo-ree! I done s'peck dey got down to purty few numbers," agreed Uncle Rufus. "Hi! wot dat cat do now?" "Scat!" cried Mrs. MacCall. She had left the table for a moment, and Popocatepetl was upon it. "Petal!" shrieked Ruth, and darted for the pantry to seize her pet.
She 'low ter spen' much as six bits fer de trash. "An' firs' t'ing she axed for was face powder aw, my glo-ree! De clerk ask her: 'Wot shade does yo' want, Ma'am? An' Pechunia giggles an' replies right back: "'Flesh color, Mister. "An' wot you t'ink dat young scalawag ob a clerk gib her?" chuckled Uncle Rufus, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in delight.
"Glo-ree!" chuckled Uncle Rufus, rolling his eyes and weaving back and forth on his chair, in full enjoyment of his own story. "Glo-ree! Dat is a 'casion I ain't nebber lak'ly tuh fo'git. Dar I was on my back on de kitchen flo', wid de goose on top ob me, w'ile de houn'-dawg beat it erway from dar er mile-er-minit ya-as'm!
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