Part 18 (2/2)

on Sunday. S'pose y' all'd bruck one o' de splints, how'd I look a-presidin' at a fun'el 'thout nare co'set on, an' me shape' like what I is?”

”Who's dead, Sarah Jane?” asked Jimmy, hoping to stem the torrent of her wrath.

”Sis' Mary Ellen's las' husban', Brudder Littlejohn--dat 's a-who,” she replied, somewhat mollified at his interest.

”When did he die?”--Jimmy pursued his advantage.

”He got 'way f'om here 'bout moon-down las' night,” she replied, losing sight of her grievance in his flattering interrogations. ”You know Sis'

Littlejohn, she been married goin' on five times. Dis-here'll make fo'

gentlemans she done buriet an' dey ain't n.o.body can manage a fun'el like she kin; 'pears like hit jes' come natchel to her. She sho' is done a good part by eb'ry single husban' too, an' she's figgerin' to outdo all the yuthers wid Brudder Littlejohn's co'pse.” Sarah Jane almost forgot her little audience in her intense absorption of her subject. ”She say to me dis mornin', she say, 'Marri'ge am a lott'ry, Sis Beddinfiel', but I sho' is drawed some han'some prizes. 'She got 'em all laid out side by side in de buryin' groun' wid er little imige on ebry grabe; an', 'Sis Mary Ellen, seein' as she can't read de writin' on de tombstones, she got a diff'unt little animal asettin' on eb'ry head res' so's she kin tell which husban' am which. Her fus' husban' were all time ahuntin', so she got a little white marble pa'tridge arestin' on he' head, an' hit am a mighty consolement to a po' widda 'oman fo' to know dat she can tell de very minute her eyes light on er grabe which husban' hit am. Her secon' man he got er mighty kinky, woolly head an' he mighty meek, so she got a little white lamb a-settin' on he grabe; an' de nex husban' he didn't have nothin' much fo' to disgueese him f'om de res' 'cep'in' he so slow an' she might nigh rack her brain off, twell she happen to think 'bout him bein' a Hardsh.e.l.l Baptis' an' so powerful slow, so she jest got a little tarrapim an' sot it on him. Hit sho' am a pretty sight jes'

to go in dat buryin' groun' an' look at 'em all, side by side; an' now she got Brudder Littlejohn to add to de res'. He de onliest one what's got er patch o' whiskers so she gwine to put a little white cat on he'

grabe. Yes, Lord, ef anythink could pearten' a widda 'oman hit would be jes' to know dat yuh could go to de grabeyard any time yuh want to an'

look at dat han'some c'llection an' tell 'zactly which am which.”

Sarah Jane stopped for breath and Billy hastened to inquire,

”Who else is dead, Sarah Jane?”

”'Tain't n.o.body else dead, yit, as I knows on, but my two cousins is turrible low; one's got a hemrage on de lung an' de yuther's got a congestin' on de brain, an' I 'lows dey'll bofe drap off 'twix' now an'

sun-up to-morra.” Her eyes rolled around and happened to light on her corset. She at once returned to her grievance.

”An' sposin' I hadn't 'av' came in here when I did? I'd 'a' had to went to my own cousins' fun'el 'thout nare co'set. Y' all gotta go right to y' all's mamas an' Miss Minerva dis very minute. I low dey'll settle yo'

hashes. Don't y' all know dat Larroes ketch meddlers?”

CHAPTER XIX

TWINS AND A SISSY

Mrs. Hamilton and Mrs. Black were sitting on Miss Minerva's veranda talking to her, and Lira and Frances were in the swing with Billy.

The attraction proved too great for Jimmy; he impolitely left a disconsolate little visitor sitting on his own porch while he jumped the fence and joined the other children.

”Don't you all wish you could see Mrs. Brown's new twinses?” was his greeting as he took his seat by Billy.

”Where'd she get 'em?” asked Frances.

”Doctor Sanford tooken 'em to her last night.”

”He muster found 'em in a holler stump,” remarked Billy. ”I knows, 'cause that's where Doctor Shacklefoot finds aller of Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny Pearline's, an' me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln been lookin'

in evy holler stump we see ever sence we's born, an' we ain't never foun' no baby 't all, 'cause can't n.o.body but jes' doctors fin' 'em. I wish he'd a-give 'em to Aunt Minerva 'stidder Mrs. Brown.”

”I wish he'd bringed 'em to my mama,” said Frances.

<script>