CHAPTER X.
MASTER IN THE KITCHEN.
The kitchen had been a scene of anything but culinary peace and savorduring the long visit of the owner of the hat.
Aunt Hominy and the little darkeys had made three stolen visits to thehall to peep at the dreadful thing hanging there, as if it were a trapof some kind, liable to drop a spring and catch somebody, or to explodelike a mortar or torpedo. As hour after hour wore on, and Miss Vesta didnot reappear, and finally rang her bell for tea, Aunt Hominy was besideherself with superstition.
"Honey," she exclaimed to Virgie, "jess you take in dis yer dried lizzeran' dis cammermile, an' drap de lizzer in dat ole hat, an' sprinkle deflo' whar ole Meshach sots wi' de cammermile, an' say 'Shoo!' Maybeit'll spile his measurin' of Miss Vessy in."
"No, aunty, if old Meshach measured _me_ in, I wouldn't make the familyashamed before him. Miss Vessy is powerful wise, and maybe she'll getthe better of that wicked hat."
"Yes," said Roxy, "she's good, Aunt Hominy, an' says her prayers everynight and mornin'. I've heard tell that witches can't hear the Lord'sname, and stay, nohow. Maybe Miss Vessy'll say in Meshach's old hat:'Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, bless the bed that I lie on.' That'llmake the old devil jess fly up an' away."
"No, gals," insisted Aunt Hominy, "cammermile is all dat'll keep himfrom a-measurin' of us in. Don't ole Meshach go to church, too, and haba prayer-book an'--listen dar, honey! ef she ain't a singin' to him!"
As Virgie answered the bell, Aunt Hominy took down her cherishedcamomile and sprinkled the little children, and gave them each a glassof sassafras beer to bless their insides.
"Lord a bless 'em!" exclaimed the old lady, "ef de slave-buyer comes,Aunt Hominy'll take 'em to de woods an' jess git los', an' live onteaberries, slippery-ellum, haws, an' chincapins. We don't gwyn stay an'let ole Meshach starve us like a lizzer."
"Aunt Hominy," said Roxy, "maybe, old lady, ef you bake a nice loaf ofFederal bread, or a game-pie, or a persimmon custard, an' send it to oleMeshach, he won't sell us to the slave-buyers. He never gets nothinggood to eat, an' don't know what it is. A little taste of it'll make himwant mo'."
"Roxy, gal," said Aunt Hominy, "I'd jess like to make a dumplin'-bag outo' dat steeple-hat he got. When I skinned de dumplin' de hat would bebad spiled, chillen, an' den de Judge would git his lan' back datMeshach's measured in. For de Judge would say, 'Meshach, ye hain'tmeasured me fair. Wha's yer yard-stick, ole debbil?' Den Meshach he say,'De hat I tuk it in wid, done gone burnt by dat ole Hominy, makin' ofher puddin's.' 'Den,' says de Judge, 'ye ain't measured me squar. Iwon't play. Take it all back!' Chillen, we must git dat ar ole hat, orde slave-buyers done take us all."
They started to take another peep of cupidity and awe at the storiedhat, when Virgie emerged from the parlor door with the dreaded articlein her hand, and, hanging it on the peg, came with superstitious fearand relief into the colonnade. Aunt Hominy hurried her to the kitchen,strewed her with herb-dust, waved a rattle of snake's teeth in a pig'sweazen over her head, and ended by pushing a sweet piece of preservedwatermelon-rind down her throat.
"Did it hurt ye, honey?" inquired Aunt Hominy, with her eyes full ofexcitement, referring to the hat.
"'Deed I don't know, aunty," Virgie answered; "all I saw was Miss Vessy,looking away from me, as if she might be going to be ashamed of me, an'I picked the thing up an' took it to the rack; an' all I know is, itsmelled old, like some of the old-clothes chests up in the garret, whenwe lift the lid and peep in, an' it seems as if they were dead people'sclothes."
The little negroes, Ned, Vince, and Phillis, heard this with shiningeyes, and dived their heads under Aunt Hominy's skirts and apron, whilethe old woman exclaimed:
"De Lord a massy!" and began to blow what she called "pow-pow" on thegirl's profaned fingers.
"I don't believe it's anything, aunty, but an ugly, old, nasty, deadfolks' hat," exclaimed Virgie. "He just wears it to plague people. Hewas drinking tea just like Miss Vessy, but I thought his teeth chattereda little, as if he had smelt of the old hat, and it give him a chill."
"Where did he get the hat, Aunt Hominy?" Roxy asked. "Did he dig it upsomewhere?"
The question seemed to spur the cook's easy invention, and, after acunning yet credulous look up and down the large kitchen, where the palelight at the windows was invisible in the stronger fire beneath thegreat stack chimney, Aunt Hominy whispered:
"He dug dat hat up in ole Rehoboff ruined churchyard. He foun' it in degrave."
"But you said this afternoon, aunty, that the Bad Man gave it to him."
"De debbil met him right dar," insisted Aunt Hominy, "in dat oleobergrown churchyard, whar de hymns ob God used to be raised befo' dedebbil got it. He says to Meshach: 'I make you de sexton hyar. Go git despade out yonder, whar de dead-house used to be, an' dig among de gravesunder de myrtle-vines, an' fin' my hat. As long as ye keep de Lord an'de singin' away from dis yer big forsaken church, you may keep dat hatto measure in eberybody's lan'.' So nobody kin sing or pray in datchurch. Nobody but Meshach Milburn ever prays dar. He goes dar sometimeswid his Chrismas-giff on he head, an' prays to de debbil."
Thus does an unwonted fashion arouse unwonted visions, as if it broughtto the present day the phantoms which were laid at rest with itself, andthey walked into simple minds, and produced superstition there.
Aunt Hominy never was stimulated to inventions of this kind, but sheimmediately absorbed them, and they became religious beliefs with her.Her manner, highly animated by her terror and belief, produced more andmore superstition in the minds of the girls and children, and theconversation fell off,--the little negroes wandering hither and thither,unable to sleep, yet unable to attract sufficient attention from anyone, till Judge Custis, who had been waiting for hours for his creditorto go, slipped down the back stairs in his old slippers, and came to thekitchen among the colored people for company's sake.
His fine presence, and familiar, if superior, address, put a newcomplexion at once on the African end of the house.
He picked up all the children by twos or threes, woolled them, chasedthem, tossed them, and drove the lurid images of Aunt Hominy's mind outof their spirits, and then caught the two young girls, and set Roxy onhis shoulder, and caught Virgie by the waist, and finally piled them onAunt Hominy, who ran behind her biscuit-block, and he bunched all thechildren upon the party.
"De Lord a massy, Judge!" exclaimed Aunt Hominy, delighted, and showingher white teeth, whichever side she revealed. "Go 'long, Judge, MissyCustis ketch you! Miss Vessy's a-comin', befor' de Lawd!"
The children were screaming, getting into the riot more, whilepretending to try to get out, invading the Judge's back, and rubbingtheir clean wool into his whiskers, and the two neat servants, broughtup like white children in his family, were not unaccustomed to eitherjovial handling or petting from their master, which he commonlyconcluded by a present of some kind.
"Old woman," said the Judge to Aunt Hominy, "can you give me a bit ofbroiled something for my stomach? I want to eat it right here."
"Ha! yah! Don't got nothin' but a young chicken, marster! Mebbe I kingit ye a squab outen de pigeon-house in de gable-yend."
"That's it, Hominy!" exclaimed Judge Custis; "a tender squab, a littletoast in cream, a glass of morning milk, and a bunch of fresh celery,will just raise my pulse, and put courage into me. Get it, my faithfulold girl; it's the last I may ask of you, for old Samson Hat is going toown you next."
"Me? No, sah! I'll run away from Prencess Anne fust. De man dat cleansole Meshach Milburn's debbil hat sha'n't nebber hab me."
"Well, it'll be one of you. If you don't take Samson, Roxy must, orVirgie. The old fellow will be very influential with our new master,and, Hominy, we're all depending on you to make him so comfortable thathe will just keep the family together."
Sobriety came in on this attempted witticism, and the old cook saw afilm grow into the Judge's smiling eyes.
"Old marster!" she exclaimed, raising her hands, "you's jess a-sottin
'dar, an' breakin' your poor heart. Don't I know when you is a-makin'believe? Mebbe dis night is de las' we'll ever see you in your own warm,nice kitchen, an' never mo', dear ole marster, kin Hominy brile you abird or season de soup you like. Bless God, dis time we'll git de squaban' de celery an' de toast, befo' ole Meshach Milburn measures all wegot in!"
While the children crawled around the Judge's knees, setting up a dismalwail to see him sob, the two neat house girls, forgetting everycontingency to themselves, sobbed also, like his own daughters, to seehim unmanned; but Aunt Hominy only felt desperately energetic at thechance to cook the last supper of the Custis household.
She lighted a brand of pine in the fire, and started one of the stableboys up a ladder by its light to ransack the pigeon-cote, and in a verylittle while both a chicken and a bird were broiled and set upon thekitchen-table upon a spotless cloth, and the plume of lily-white celery,and the smoking toast in velvet cream, warmed the Judge's nostrils, anddried his tears.
Roxy stood behind him to wait upon his wishes; Virgie subdued everyexpression of grief, and comforted the children, and poor Aunt Hominy,with silent tears streaming down her cheeks to see him eat and suffer,kept up a clatter of epicurean talk, lest he might turn and see hermiserable. As he finished his meal, and took out his gold tooth-pick,and felt a comfortable joy of such misery and sympathy, Vesta opened thedoor, and said:
"Papa!"
"My child?"
"Let me speak with you."
Judge Custis rose, and raised his hands to Aunt Hominy in speechlessrecognition of her service; but not till the door closed behind him didthe old cook's cry burst through her quivering lips:
"Oh! chillen, chillen, he'll never eat no mo' like dat again. OleMeshach's measured him in!"