Colonel Carter of Cartersville | Page 4

after dinner--not a
word befo'."
This railroad was the colonel's only hope for the impoverished acres of
Carter Hall, but lately saved from foreclosure by the generosity of his
aunt, Miss Nancy Carter, who had redeemed it with almost all her
savings, the house and half of the outlying lands being, thereupon,
deeded to her. The other half reverted to the colonel.
I explained to Fitz immediately after his hearty greeting that I was a
humble landscape painter, and not a major at all, having not the
remotest connection with any military organization whatever; but that
the colonel always insisted upon surrounding himself with a staff, and
that my promotion was in conformity with this habit.
The colonel laughed, seized the poker, and rapped three times on the
floor. A voice from the kitchen rumbled up:--
"Comin', sah!"
It was Chad "dishin' the dinner" below, his explanations increasing in
distinctness as he pushed the rear door open with his foot,--both hands
being occupied with the soup tureen which he bore aloft and placed at
the head of the table.

[Illustration]
In a moment more he retired to the outer hall and reappeared brilliant in
white jacket and apron. Then he ranged himself behind the colonel's
chair and with great dignity announced that dinner was served.
"Come, Major! Fitz, sit where you can warm yo' back--you are not
thawed out yet. One minute, gentlemen,--an old custom of my
ancestors which I never omit."
The blessing was asked with becoming reverence; there was a slight
pause, and then the colonel lifted the cover of the tureen and sent a
savory cloud of incense to the ceiling.
The soup was a cream of something with baby crabs. There was also a
fish,--boiled,--with slices of hard boiled eggs fringing the dish, ovaled
by a hedge of parsley and supplemented by a pyramid of potatoes with
their jackets ragged as tramps. Then a ham, brown and crisp, and
bristling all over with cloves.
Then the ducks!
It was beautiful to see the colonel's face when Chad, with a bow like a
folding jack-knife, held this dish before him.
"Lay 'em here, Chad--right under my nose. Now hand me that pile of
plates sizzlin' hot, and give that carvin' knife a turn or two across the
hearth. Major, dip a bit of celery in the salt and follow it with a mou'ful
of claret. It will prepare yo' palate for the kind of food we raise
gentlemen on down my way. See that red blood, suh, followin' the
knife!"
"Suit you, marsa?" Chad never forgot his slave days. "To a turn,
Chad,--I wouldn't take a thousand dollars for you," replied the colonel,
relapsing as unconsciously into an old habit.
It was not to be wondered at that the colonel loved a good dinner. To
dine well was with him an inherited instinct; one of the necessary

preliminaries to all the important duties in life. To share with you his
last crust was a part of his religion; to eat alone, a crime.
"There, Major," said the colonel as Chad laid the smoking plate before
me, "is the breast of a bird that fo' days ago was divin' for wild celery
within fo'ty miles of Caarter Hall. My dear old aunt Nancy sends me a
pair every week, bless her sweet soul! Fill yo' glasses and let us drink
to her health and happiness." Here the colonel rose from his chair:
"Gentlemen, the best thing on this earth--a true Southern lady!
"Now, Chad, the red pepper."
[Illustration]
"No jelly, Colonel?" said Fitz, with an eye on the sideboard.
"Jelly? No, suh; not a suspicion of it. A pinch of salt, a dust ofcayenne,
then shut yo' eyes and mouth, and don't open them 'cept for a drop of
good red wine. It is the salt marsh in the early mornin' that you are
tastin', suh,--not molasses candy. You Nawtherners don't really treat a
canvasback with any degree of respect. You ought never to come into
his presence when he lies in state without takin' off yo' hats. That may
be one reason why he skips over the Nawthern States when he takes his
annual fall outin'." And he laughed heartily.
"But you use it on venison?" argued Fitz.
"Venison is diff'ent, suh. That game lives on moose buds, the soft inner
bark of the sugar maple, and the tufts of sweet grass. There is a
propriety and justice in his endin' his days smothered in sweets; but the
wild duck, suh, is bawn of the salt ice, braves the storm, and lives a life
of peyil and hardship. You don't degrade a' oyster, a soft shell crab, or a
clam with confectionery; why a canvasback duck?
"Now, Chad, serve coffee."
The colonel pushed back his chair, and opened a