"'I t'ought dere was a roast goose, Chad?'

"'I ain't yerd nothin' 'bout no goose,' I says. 'I'll ask de cook.'

"Next minute I yerd old marsa a-hollerin':--

"'Mammy Jane, ain't we got a goose?'

"'Lord-a-massy! yes, marsa. Chad, you wu'thless nigger, ain't you tuk
dat goose out yit?'

"'Is we got a goose?' said I.

"'_Is we got a goose_? Didn't you help pick it?'

"I see whar my hair was short, an' I snatched up a hot dish from de
hearth, opened de oven do', an' slide de goose in jes as he was, an'
lay him down befo' Marsa John.

"'Now see what de ladies'll have for dinner,' says old marsa, pickin'
up his caarvin' knife.

"'What'll you take for dinner, miss?' says I. 'Baked ham?'

"'No,' she says, lookin' up to whar Marsa John sat; 'I think I'll take
a leg ob dat goose'--jes so.

"Well, marsa cut off de leg an' put a little stuffin' an' gravy on wid
a spoon, an' says to me, 'Chad, see what dat gemman'll have.'