"An' gole buckles on his shoes, an' a sword on, an' a long white feathah in his hat.

Cricky! An' it was his hawse I done held! Maybe it will be somethin' mighty fine what he's goin' to bring me, 'cause I did that!" Later he found his way to the kitchen, where Sheba was washing dishes.
The cook gave him a plate of ice-cream and some scraps of cake.

She was telling Sheba how beautiful Miss Hallie's birthday cake looked at dinner, with its nineteen little wax candles all aflame.

That was the last thing John Jay remembered, until some one shook him, and told him it was time to go home.

He had fallen asleep with a spoon in his hand.
Mammy was afraid to take the short cut through the woods after dark, so she led him away round by the toll-gate.