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"They sure is," John agreed; "that-all's whut makes you so good-lookin', Daisy." He came close to her and she drew away. "You put yo' min' on passin' them plates," she said with severity, "or you'll be spillin' po'k gravy on they haids." Her smile took away the sting of her admonition. John moved on, murmuring, "Well, yo' does han'some and yo' is han'some, Daisy, and that's why I loves you."
Ef I'd 'a' known you was a-comin' I'd sho' had somethin' fo' dinneh to-day besides greens an' po'k, cracklin' pone an' apple dumplin's. That's nuffin' fo' a weddin' dinneh." But when they came to eat it, it was delicious the greens delicately seasoned, not greasy, the salt pork home-cured and sweet, the cracklin' pone crumbling with richness, and the apple dumpling a delight of spicy flavour.
"I'm just breathin' my last!" All the hands began yelling at us. "No sparkin' here!" "None o' them love pinches, Rowena!" "I swan to man if that Dutchman ain't cuttin' us all out!" "Quit courtin' an' pass them molasses, sweetness!" "Mo' po'k an' less honey, thar!" this from a Missourian. "Magnus, your pardner's cuttin' you out!"
Celia entered, carrying the breakfast on a tray. "Curt's Zouaves have stolen ev'y pig, but I found bacon and po'k in the cellar," she said, smilingly. "Oh, dear! the flo' is in such a mess of plaster! Will you sit on the aidge of the bed, Miss Lynden, and he'p my cousin eat this hot co'n pone?"
"Now," she muttered, composedly taking her knitting and sitting before her hastily replenished hearth-fire; "now, I reckon who-sumever it may be, will think I've had a po'ful feast o' po'k chops, judging from my mouf, an' no quality ain't mo' comfortable than I be?" A smile of content spread over the old face as this vision of respectability enfolded the poor soul.
"Uh-huh; Li'l Abner Melroy; po'k chops unless otherwise specified." Keating got up and went out into the middle office. As he opened the door. Melroy could hear a recording of somebody being given a word-association test. Half an hour later, when the food arrived, they spread their table on a relatively clear desk in the middle office.
"They sure is," John agreed; "that-all's whut makes you so good-lookin', Daisy." He came close to her and she drew away. "You put yo' min' on passin' them plates," she said with severity, "or you'll be spillin' po'k gravy on they haids." Her smile took away the sting of her admonition. John moved on, murmuring, "Well, yo' does han'some and yo' is han'some, Daisy, and that's why I loves you."
"Lor, chile! an' why not? Ain't I allas had my own po'k and bacon? Ain't I lived up to the Great House fo' years an' years?" "Of course. And Sally, that reminds me. I'm going to buy the Great House and make it as it was before the war!" "Gawd!" gasped Sally. "I shall want you to tell me exactly how it looked you can remember?" "Why, yes, chile!" Sally's hand paused, spoon in air.
Cohn cake wuz baked in de ashes, ash-cake we call 'em an' dey wuz good and sweet. Sometimes we got wheat bread, we call dat "seldom bread" an' cohn bread wuz called "common" becos we had it ev'ry day. A boss mammy, she looked aftah de eatins' and believe me nobuddy got too much. De meat house wuz full of smoked po'k, but we only got a little piece now an' den.
As they drifted in toward shore slowly, weaving their way among the moored craft, Whistler suddenly began to sniff the air and show excitement. "What's the matter?" demanded Torry, his closest chum. "You act like a hound dog on a hot scent." "Or a colored gem'man smelling po'k chops on the frypan," suggested Frenchy, chuckling.
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