Bonny Jean, and A Severe Threat — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

24 BONNY JEAN. was a dearth of table-cloth, while napkins were an unknown luxury in that remote region; china ware, also, was at a con- siderable discount—‘‘like angels’ visits, few and far between’”— yet the supper made up for all other deficiency. Trout from the sparkling Tangipahoa, a haunch of venison, roast duck, the inevitable corn dodger, roast yams, rice, and black coffee, con- stituted the bill of fare, and Philip, sitting down at once, did it ample justice. Mr. Corney had slouched away from the room, but when Philip had concluded his repast, he returned, bringing a small waiter, upon which were two glasses. “*Here, sir,” he began, that same horrible leer disfiguring his far from handsome features—‘‘ here is as good a Tom and Jerry as ever you'll git in New Orleans, I reckon. I thought ‘twould do you good arter such a mighty bad wettin’; so I fixed hit myself, and, if you please, we'll drink together. This here’s for you,” indicating one of the glasses with a dingy forefinger. Philip took the glass, and Mr. Corney placed the waiter, with the remaining glass, upon the table, and turned to poke the fire. That operation in the pine woods usually consists in a series of vigorous kicks at the back log with a pair of hob- nailed boots. While this process was going on, Philip sat glancing from one glass of liquor to the other, and a queer idea entered his brain and lodged there. Yielding to this curious impulse, he lifted his own glass, and, unnoticed by his host, whose back was turned, he quietly exchanged glasses. As soon as he had done this thing, Philip could have laughed at his own absurdity. But he drank the Tom and Jerry, while Mr. Corney imitated his example, draining the liquor at one draught, and smacking his lips with intense satisfaction. Then, sitting down before the fire, the old man proceeded leisurely to light his pipe. . Mr. Corney made no attempt at conversation, and Philip sat there, to all intents and purposes, alone; and, at last, turning toward his host, he saw that he was fast islebpeenol a natural, easy slumber, but a heavy lethargy. Eomicbooks sco =)