Wool quickly got out of the way and made room for the overseer, who was sniveling like a whipped schoolboy, and to whom the housekeeper said: "I thought you were wiser than to take this so to heart, Mr. Ezy."
"Oh, mum, what could you expect? An old sarvint as has sarved the major faithful these forty years, to be discharged at sixty-five! Oh, hoo-ooo-oo!" whimpered the overseer.
"But then you have been discharged so often you ought to be used to it by this time. You get discharged, just as Wool gets sold, about once a month--but do you ever go?"
"Oh, mum, but he's in airnest this time; 'deed he is, mum; terrible in airnest; and all about that misfortnet bobtail colt getting stole. I know how it wur some of Black Donald's gang as done it--as if I could always be on my guard against them devils; and he means it this time, mum; he's terrible in airnest!"
"Tut! he's always in earnest for as long as it lasts; go home to your family and to-morrow go about your business as usual."
Here the study bell rang violently and Old Hurricane's voice was heard calling, "Mrs. Condiment! Mrs. Condiment!"
"Oh, Lor', he's coming!" cried Bill Ezy, running off as fast as his age and grief would let him.
"Mrs. Condiment! Mrs. Condiment!" called the voice.
"Yes, sir, yes," answered the housekeeper, hurrying to obey the call.
Capitola walked up and down the hall for half an hour, at the end of which Mrs. Condiment came out "with a smile on her lip and a tear in her eye," and saying: "Well, Miss Capitola, I'm paid off and discharged also."
"What for?"
"For aiding and abetting the rebels; in a word, for trying to comfort poor Ezy and Wool."
"And are you going?"
"Certainly not; I shan't budge; I would not treat the old man so badly as to take him at his word." And, with a strange smile, Mrs. Condiment hurried away just in time to escape Old Hurricane, who came raving out of the study.
"Get out of my way, you beggar!" he cried, pushing past Capitola and hurrying from the house.
"Well, I declare, that was pleasant!" thought Cap, as she entered the parlor.
"Mrs. Condiment, what will he say when he comes back and finds you all here still?" she asked.
"Say? Nothing. After this passion is over he will be so exhausted that he will not be able to get up another rage in two or three days."