Part 4 (1/2)

”I'll give it to him right away, quick,” she cried delightedly as she ran from the room.

”Good!” Then rising he extended his hand, saying, as he clasped Mrs.

Carruth's:

”She is a little trump, Mrs. Carruth. Jove! if you could have been there and seen her champions.h.i.+p of that old horse, and her dauntless courage when that old rascal, Jabe, bore down upon her, you would be so set up that this house would have to expand to hold you. Please don't reprove her. I ask it as favor, although I have no right to do so. She has a fine spirit and a finer sense of duty, Mrs. Carruth, for she gave me a rare call-down when I tested it by hinting that she'd best keep mum on the subject if she was likely to come in for a wigging. She is a great little la.s.sie and I am going to ask you to let me know her better.”

”Jean is about right, _I_ think, Mr. Stuyvesant,” said Constance, as she shook hands good-bye. ”She is peppery and impulsive, I know, but it would be a hard matter to make her tell an untruth, or go against what she considered her duty.”

”I'm _sure_ of it, Miss Constance,” was the hearty answer. ”And now good-bye. You will let me come again, Mrs. Carruth?”

”We will be very pleased to welcome you,” was the cordial reply.

”Good! I'll come.”

CHAPTER V

A New Member of the Family

”Has you-all done 'cided to do wid out yo' suppers dis yer night?

'Cause if you _is_ I 'spec's I kin clar away,” was the autocratic inquiry of Mammy Melviny as she stood in the doorway of the living-room, her ample proportions very nearly filling it.

Hadyn Stuyvesant's call had been of longer duration than Mammy approved, for her hot corn cakes were being rapidly ruined by the delayed meal, and this was an outrage upon her skill in cooking. Mammy had been Mrs. Carruth's nurse ”down souf” and still regarded that dignified lady as her ”chile,” and subject to her dictation. She was the only servant which Mrs. Carruth now kept, the others having been what Mammy stigmatized as ”po' northern no 'count n.i.g.g.e.rs” who gave the minimum of work for the maximum of pay, and were prompt to take their departure when adversity overtook their employer.

Not so Mammy. When the crisis came Mrs. Carruth stated the case to her and advised her to seek another situation where she would receive the wages her ability commanded, and which Mrs. Carruth, in her reduced circ.u.mstances, could no longer afford to pay her. The storm which the suggestion produced was both alarming and amusing. Placing her arms upon her hips, and raising her head like a war-horse scenting battle, Mammy stamped her foot and cried:

”Step down an' out? Get out 'en de fambly? Go wo'k fer some o' dese hyer strange folks what aint keer a cent fo' me, an' aint know who I _is_? _Me?_ a Blairsdale! Huh! What sort o' fool talk is _dat_, Baby?

Yo' cyant _git_ me out. Yo' need 'n ter try, kase 'taint gwine be no good ter. I's hyer and hyer I's gwine _stay_, no matter _what_ come.

'Taint no use fer ter talk ter _me_ 'bout money and wages an' sich truck. What I kerrin' fer dem? I'se got 'nough, an' ter spare. What yo' t'ink I'se been doin' all dese years o' freedom? Flingin' my earnin's 'way? Huh! You _know_ I aint done no sich foolishness. I'se got a pile--yis, an' a _good_ pile too,--put 'way. I need n't ter ever do a stroke mo' work long 's I live if I don't wantter. I'se _rich_, I is. But I _gwine_ ter work jist 's long's I'se mind ter. Ain't I free?

Who gwine ter say I cyant wo'k? Now go long an' tend ter yo' business and lemme lone ter tend ter mine, and dat's right down wid de pots and de kettles, and de stew pans, an' de wash biler and de wash tubs, an'

I reckon I kin do more 'n six o' dese yer Norf n.i.g.g.e.rs put togedder when I set out ter good an' hard if I _is_ most sixty years old. Hush yo' talk chile, an' don't let me ketch you a interferin' wid _my_ doin's agin. You heah _me_?” And at the end of this tirade, Mammy turned sharply about and marched off like a grenadier. Mrs. Carruth was deeply touched by the old woman's loyalty, but knowing the antebellum negro as she did, she realized how wounded Mammy had been by the suggestion that she seek a more lucrative situation among strangers. Mammy had been born and raised a slave on Mrs. Carruth's father's plantation in North Carolina, and would always consider herself a member of Mrs. Carruth's family. Alas for the days of such ties and such devotion!

So Mammy was now the autocrat of the household and ruled with an iron hand, although woe to anyone who dared to overstep the bounds _she_ had established as her ”Miss Jinny's” rights, or the ”chillen's”

privileges as ”old marster's gran'-chillern.” ”Old Marster” was Mammy's ideal of what a gentleman should be, and ”de days befo' de gre't turmoil” were the only days ”fitten for _folks_ (always to be written in italics) to live in.”

She was an interesting figure as she stood in the doorway, and snapped out her question, although her old face, surmounted by its gay bandanna turban was the personification of kindliness, and her keen eyes held only love for her ”white folks.”

She was decidedly corpulent and her light print gown and beautifully ironed white ap.r.o.n stood out from her figure until they completely filled the doorway.

Mrs. Carruth turned toward her and asked with a quizzical smile;

”What is spoiling, Mammy?”

”Huh! Ain't nuffin spilin's I knows on, but dat Miss Nornie done say she ain't had no co'n cakes 'n 'bout 'n age an' if she _want_ 'em so turrible she'd better come and _eat_ 'em,”--and with a decisive nod Mammy stalked off toward the dining-room.