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Updated: May 3, 2025
At the age of thirteen, I went as a waiter-boy in a public-house, where I remained until I was sixteen. Here I learned to love the flavour of drink, and I never lost it until I was converted to God, through the blessed words spoken in the open air. When I look back, and think how I have beaten my poor wife it was through the drink it makes me ashamed of myself.
They seemed surprised and pleased to recognize us, greeted us as if we had been old friends and close intimates, appeared to assume that we were as glad to see them as they were to see us, and, as a matter of course, joined us at dinner, telling the waiter-boy to bring them whatever we had ordered, only doubling the quantity of every order.
But what most distinguished the town, after all, in Margaret's first glimpse of it, was the swarming negro population pervading every part of it the slouching plantation negro, the smart mulatto girl with gay raiment and mincing step, the old-time auntie, the brisk waiter-boy with uncertain eye, the washerwoman, the hawkers and fruiterers, the loafing strollers of both sexes carrying everywhere color, abandon, a certain picturesqueness and irresponsibility and good-nature, and a sense of moral relaxation in a too strict and duty-ridden world.
But what most distinguished the town, after all, in Margaret's first glimpse of it, was the swarming negro population pervading every part of it the slouching plantation negro, the smart mulatto girl with gay raiment and mincing step, the old-time auntie, the brisk waiter-boy with uncertain eye, the washerwoman, the hawkers and fruiterers, the loafing strollers of both sexes carrying everywhere color, abandon, a certain picturesqueness and irresponsibility and good-nature, and a sense of moral relaxation in a too strict and duty-ridden world.
A little tow-headed waiter-boy appeared with their coffee and rolls on a tray poised high on his hand. "You'll have your coffee out here with us?" said Mary. "Where else?" said I, as though there was no conceivable alternative, and told the tow-headed waiter. Belatedly Mary turned to introduce me to her secretary: "My friend Miss Summersley Satchel. Mr. Stephen."
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