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All was quiet in the mansion of the Rutherford plantation, but there was a clamoring down in the kitchen. The grandfather struck 3 o'clock and Myrna looked up from the platter of flapjacks she was fixing for Mr. Rutherford, who was due back from Charleston any minute now.
"Lord have mercy, Missa Rutherford's sho gonna be cross when he finds out the flapjacks ain't reddy when he gets back!"
Just then she was rattled by a voice behind her.
"'Taint no worryin' about Missa Rutherford's hijinx no mo, Myrna," boomed Thomas the manservant as he burst into the kitchen.
"Thomas! You just about spooked the bejezzus outta me!"
"Now woman, you know a negro's s'posed to be seen and not heard..."
"Now you quit that. Missa Rutherford's gittin' back any minute now and these flapjacks ain't gonna cook themselves." Myrna said in an irritated tone.
"Jus' because he's s'posed to only be seen don't mean a negro don' see himself, tho." said Thomas who looked unusually gladsome.
"E'er since you got in here I don't know what in the sam hill you been tryin' to say. Now if you don't mind I gotta finish these flapjacks and I still got the chicken to put on."
Thomas could see that Myrna was in no humor for listening, and so decided to spill the beans at a more proper time, though the words wanted to escape his lips more than a rabbit at a bloodhound convention.
"Alright then, after supper it is," said Thomas with that uncanny look.
He then left the kitchen with a waggish smile, leaving Myrna more perplexed than before.
"That man will sholly be the death of me." rumbled the corpulent maid as she returned to the vittles.
Myrna worked like a beast until 9 and was dog tired. After his excursion, Mr. Rutherford was fussy as a bus. Jambalaya and pork medallions for 2 whole hours, after which he enjoyed his usual bourbon and Cubans. Though he was accommodated all his druthers throughout the night, somethin' was vexing him and as such he was in a particularly foul humor towards Myrna. This left Myrna powerful beat and a little riled. As she sank into her chair and started in on her hush-puppies, in barged Thomas who had an odd shine considering the night they both had. He took out a sack he had tucked into his trousers and showed it to Myrna.
"What all this be?"
"It be pay fo yo' hard day's work."
She hesitantly peered into the sack and was flabbergasted at what she saw.
"Why Thomas! This be some of the massa's finest whiskey. He finds out and we'll both be in for a fantastic switchin'."
"Don' pay no nevamind to that, woman. In fact, we be gettin' even mo luxuries from now on, I reckon" said Jones with a whoop.
"What you mean by that?" blubbered the dumbfounded maid.
"These eyes done seen some strange things that the massa would be very good in keepin' in the closet."
"What you goin' on about, now? My ears do be on fire!" said the maid, struggling to simmer down.
"It go like this: while hangin' the boars head, I heard an awful ruckus comin' from the den. Now I usually mind my own affairs, but I got a powerful urge to find out what all the ballyhoo was about, so I set to peepin' through the keyhole. The sight I saw made me near leap clean outta my britches. There be the massa fully dropped gettin a gobblin' by none other than the newly wed Mrs. Thimpson!"