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He knew that Pet, on these occasions, asked him to
go for a spool of thread, or a paper of needles, or a package of candy,
merely to gratify him with the idea that he was making himself useful.
When he came into the room tidily dressed, and highly polished as to his
boots, he blushed even redder than he used to. It was not the
acquisition of a little money by Mr. Minford that had exalted his
daughter in the-eyes of Bog, but the French and the music. These two
accomplishments seemed to lift her into an upper air of delicacy and
refinement, for which Bog felt that his miserable education and clumsy
manners quite unfitted him. After Bog had performed some little invented
errand for her, she would reward him with a short exercise, and Bog
would sit, with open mouth and crossed legs, staring at Pet's face and
hands alternately, and beating time with his large red hands on
his knees.
Bog knew the negro songs of the period, and admired them. He would have
liked to hear Pet play them, but feared she would think his musical
taste very bad if he asked her to.


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