She hadn't time to speak before two great doors slid into the partition, and there was another room jest as much like the one we was in, as two peas in a pod. A table was sot in the middle of the room, all kivered with rale China dishes, and first rate glass tumblers, and a silver thing to set the pepper box in--you hain't no idee how stilish it was. But as true as you live, there stood that etarnal nigger, close by the table, as large as life. I didn't know what to make on it, but sez I to myself, if cousin John's got to be an abolitionist and expects me to eat with a nigger, he'll find himself mistaken, I'll be darned to darnation if he don't! But I needn't a got so wrathy; the critter didn't offer to set down, he only stood there to git anything that we wanted. "Do you take verminsilly, Mr. Slick?" says Miss Beebe, biting off her words as it she was afraid they'd burn her. With that she took the kiver off one of the dishes, and begun to ladle out some soup with a great silver dipper as bright as a new fifty cent piece. "No, thank you," says I, "but I'll take some of that are soup instead, if you've no objection." The critter was jest beginning to pucker up her mouth again, as if she'd found out something to poke fun at, but cousin John looked at her so etarnal cross that she was glad to choke in. I s'pose cousin John see that I felt dreadful oneasy, so he said, kind a coaxing, "She meant verminsilly soup, cousin Slick. Let her help you to some, I'm sartin you'll like it." "Wal," says I, "I don't care if I du." So I took up a queer looking spoon that lay by my plate, and tried to eat, but all I could du, the soup would keep a running through the spoon into the dish agin. I tried and tried to git one good mouthful, but I might jest as well have detarmined to dip up the Connecticut river in a sieve, and the most I could git was two or three sprangles of little white things that I stirred up from the bottom of the plate, that didn't taste bad, but to save my life I couldn't make out what they were made out on. Arter I'd been a fishing and diving ever so long, a trying to git one good spoonful, so that I could tell what it was, I looked up, and there was the nigger showing his teeth, and rolling about his eyes, like a black cat in the dark. It made me wrathy, for I surmized that he was a larfing to see me a working so hard to git a mouthful of something to eat. I couldn't hold in any longer, so I jumped up and flung down the spoon upon the floor, as spiteful as could be, and sez I to the nigger, sez I, "What do you stand a grinning at there, woolly head? go and git me a spoon that hain't got no slits in it, I'd as lief eat with a rake as that are thing." "Ha, ha, haw," larfed out the etarnal black varmint, "I thought you would not make the fork hold." With that Miss Beebe giggled right out, and cousin John looked as if he would a burst to keep from larfing too.