"Iss, Massa. She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. "Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up.
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