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.'

   "'What'll you take for dinner, sah?' says I. 'Nice breast o' goose, or slice o' ham?'

   "'No; I think I'll take a leg of dat goose,' he says.

   "I didn't say nuffin', but I knowed bery well he wa'n't a-gwine to git it.

   "But, Major, you oughter seen ole marsa lookin' for der udder leg ob dat goose! He rolled him ober on de dish, dis way an' dat way, an' den he jabbed dat ole bone-handled caarvin' fork in him an' hel' him up ober de dish an' looked under him an' on top ob him, an' den he says, kinder sad like:

   "'Chad, whar is de udder leg ob dat goose?'

   "'It didn't hab none,' says I.

   "'You mean ter say, Chad, dat de gooses on my 

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