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Colonel Carter of Cartersville by Francis Hopkinson Smith
page 20 of 149 (13%)
come to listen to the details of that booming enterprise with the
epidemic proclivities, the discussion of which had been cut short by
the length of time it had taken to kill the postmaster the night before.

It was quite evident that the colonel expected guests, for Chad was
groaning under a square wicker basket, containing, among other luxuries
and necessities, half a dozen bottles of claret, a segment of cheese,
and some heads of lettuce; the whole surmounted by a clean
leather-covered pass-book inscribed with the name and avenue number
of the confiding and accommodating grocer who supplied the colonel's
daily wants.

"De colonel an' Misser Fizpat'ic bofe waitin' for you, sah," said that
obsequious darky, preceding me through the dark passage. I followed,
mounted the old-fashioned wooden steps, and fell into the outstretched
arms of the colonel before I could touch the knocker.

[Illustration]

"Here he is, Fitz!" and the next instant I was sharing with that genial
gentleman the warmth of the colonel's fire.

"Now then, Chad," called out the colonel, "take this lettuce and give
it a dip in the snow for five minutes; and here, Chad, befo' you go
hand me that claret. Bless my soul! it is as cold as a dog's nose;
Fitz, set it on the mantel. And hurry down to that mutton, Chad. Never
mind the basket. Leave it where it is."

Chad chuckled out to me as he closed the door: "'Spec' I know mo' 'bout
dat saddle den de colonel. It ain't a-burnin' none." And the colonel,
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