Uncle Noah addressed him with great firmness. "Now see yere, Massa
Job," he said, "tain't no use yoh puttin' on yoh high and mighty airs
to-night. I'se come to interview yoh, sah! Understand?"
Job majestically tucked his head beneath his wing as if to intimate his
indifference to the proposed interview.
Uncle Noah surveyed his ruffled back feathers with increased respect.
"So," he said, "yoh refuse me an interview, Massa Job Fairfax. Yoh is
sleepy, sah, dat's whut's got into yoh." He stroked the turkey with a
gentle hand, and, Job, resenting the indignity, withdrew his head from
the sheltering wing and pecked at the brown fingers, turning around
with a stately movement and facing the light once more with a sleepy
blink of his bright, beadlike eyes.
"Now, sah, we can talk," exclaimed the negro in delight. Drawing up an
old box he seated himself before the roost and beamed benevolently over
his glasses.
"Colonel done say yoh gobble under de winder 'bout suppertime," he
began confidentially. "When ol' Mis' cry 'bout young Massa Dick de
Colonel he jus' gotta scold 'bout sumthin', and as yoh is de mos'
important person about he jus' naturally selects yoh.
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