A Light to My Path
“His arms ached, and his eyes burned and watered from the strong cigars that the men were smoking. Massa had spent the past three hours in this private salon in the bay-front inn in Beaufort, drinking and gambling with a group of wealthy planters, but he showed no signs of quitting. Grady was so tired he could scarcely stand, much less wave his arms. It was past midnight and he longed for sleep, his feet burning with fatigue, but he didn’t dare complain.
“Pour me another drink, Joe,” Coop growle...d.
Grady quickly laid aside the fan and picked up the bottle of bourbon. He poured slowly and carefully, not daring to spill a single drop. Massa Coop took a sip then nodded to his opponents across the table.
“Want him to fill yours, Fuller?”
Grady hurried around the table with the bottle, ready to pour. But Mr. Fuller covered his empty glass with one hand. “No more for me, thanks.”
“You sure?” Coop asked. “How about you, Jackson?”
Mr. Jackson shook his head as he shuffled the cards.MoreLess
“Pour me another drink, Joe,” Coop growle...d.
Grady quickly laid aside the fan and picked up the bottle of bourbon. He poured slowly and carefully, not daring to spill a single drop. Massa Coop took a sip then nodded to his opponents across the table.
“Want him to fill yours, Fuller?”
Grady hurried around the table with the bottle, ready to pour. But Mr. Fuller covered his empty glass with one hand. “No more for me, thanks.”
“You sure?” Coop asked. “How about you, Jackson?”
Mr. Jackson shook his head as he shuffled the cards.MoreLess
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