The choice seat, the choice bed, and choice
bits at the table, were ever for Major Walker. Big Billy, with his
four hundred and ten pounds of adipose flesh, was always behind Major
Walker's chair. He was first served; the choicest pieces of the pig
were pointed out, cuts from the back and side bones and breast were
hunted from the dish of fried chicken, a famous Georgia dish, for
Major Walker. It was a great thing in those days in Georgia, to live
in a little town of three thousand inhabitants, and wear _store
clothes_. It was this and these which made a Georgia major.
Judge Dooly, upon one occasion, when attempting to usurp the seat of
honor, was unceremoniously informed by Big Billy that it was Major
Walker's seat.
Custom since has familiarized the retention of special seats for
special persons, and now such a remark from a host astonishes no one.
But in those days of unadulterated democracy, to assume a right to an
unoccupied seat, startled every one. Dooly, amid the astonished gaze
of the assembled guests, unmurmuringly retired to an unoccupied seat
of more humble pretensions near the foot of the extended table.
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