She discovered his guilt for herself, however, after a few days, from
his very annoying cough. She taxed him with it so sturdily that efforts
at deception availed him not. His tale that the snow sifted into his
"bref-place" and "tickled it" was pitifully unconvincing, for his cough
was deeper than Eustace Eubanks's proudest note in the drinking song.
"He's a worthless thing," said Miss Caroline, telling me of his fault,
and I said he was indeed--that he hadn't served me four years without my
finding _that_ out. I added that he was undoubtedly shamming, but that
at the same time it might be as well to take a few simple precautions.
Miss Caroline said that of course he was shamming, in order to get out
of work, and that she would soon drive _that_ nonsense out of his head
if she had to wear the black wretch out to do it. She added that she was
about tired of his nonsense.
It may be known that I have heretofore lost no opportunity to foist all
faults of understanding upon the heads of my fellow-townsmen. And I
should have liked to keep my record clear in that matter; but it would
be uncandid to pretend, even at this late day, that I have ever divined
the precise relationship that exists between Miss Caroline and her
slave.
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