"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!