That the darky was without a hat and in his shirt-sleeves, and it winter--the middle of January, really--the only warm thing about him being the green baize apron tied about his waist, his customary livery when attending to his morning duties--did not trouble him in the least. Marse George might come any minute, and he wanted to be the first to welcome him.
For the past few weeks Todd had had the house to himself. Coal-black Aunt Jemima, with her knotted pig-tails, capacious bosom, and unconfined waist, forty years his senior and ten shades darker in color, it is true, looked after the pots and pans, to say nothing of a particular spit on which her master's joints and game were roasted; but the upper part of the house, which covered the drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom, and dressing-room in the rear, as well as the outside of the dwelling, including even the green-painted front door and the slant of white marble steps that dropped to the brick sidewalk, were the especial property of the chocolate-colored darky.