He seated himself at last before the piano, a full half-yard distant, stretching out his arms full-length, like an ape clawing for food, his feet, when not on the pedals, squirming and twisting incessantly, answering some joke of his master's with a loud "Yha! yha!" Nothing indexes the brain like the laugh; this was idiotic. "Now, Tom, boy, something we like from Verdi."
He would have meat or other things to get for the table, but would always reach the boat first in returning, and when he saw his "young master?" as he called each of us boys coming down the wharf loaded with a week's supply of various things, the old darky would commence to grin and slap his sharp knees, the slaps growing quicker and the grin breaking into "yha! yha! yhi!" as we drew near enough to show him our different purchases.