always came so quick and brief that they seemed to be part of the
question that had been asked instead of a reply to it. When he stood at
table with his fly-brush, rigid, erect, his face set in a cast-iron
gravity, he was a statue till he detected a dawning want in somebody's
eye; then he pounced down, supplied it, and was instantly a statue again.
When he was sent to the kitchen for anything, he marched upright till he
got to the door; he turned hand-springs the rest of the way.

"Breakfast!"

I thought I would make one more effort to get some conversation out of
this being.

"Have you called the Reverend, or are--"

"Yes s'r!"

"Is it early, or is--"

"Eight-five."

"Do you have to do all the 'chores,' or is there somebody to give
you a--"

"Colored girl."

"Is there only one parish in this island, or are there--"

"Eight!"