CHAPTER II
THE YOUNG VIOLINIST
WHEN Colonel Spottiswoode stuck out his head from a door, glanced up and down the deck and beckoned for Zack, the negro never saw him. Zack had his hat in his left hand, gesticulating with his right; Miss Stanton, half a yard ahead, kept turning and laughing as she walked. "Missy, I'm gwine to wait right here till dis here boat makes her fust landin'. I wants you to see how dat mate gwine to boss dese rousters. You ain't never been on no steamboat befo'—jes wait till us gits to de fust landin'."
"The first landing? We won't land for six or seven days."
"Six or seven days? Lordee, Missy, I sho' would love to be roustabout on dis boat—or git de job o' callin' stations. I got a friend what's porter on de A. & V. Railroad, an' I 'lowed he had er sof' snap. But, Lordee! Calling stations on dis boat, dat would be all right, all right."
"So you don't like hard work?"
"Yas'm, Missy, I ain't skeered o' work. Like Uncle Aaron he say about a triflin' nigger: 'dat
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