Part 6 (1/2)

MISS RACE HOSS'S PARTY

Willis drank his soup noisily, insisted upon eating with his knife, upset a gla.s.s of milk on Jane's new Easter dress, and in the end was carried from the table kicking and screaming.

Mammy's attempts to pacify him proved futile, and fearing the wrath of his father, she gathered up the squirming, screaming boy as best she could and ran to her own room in the rear. Letting him fall upon the bed, she breathlessly dropped into a chair, and wiped the perspiration from her face with the corner of her ap.r.o.n.

”Now, den, jes' holl'r an' kick, tell you hollers an' kicks yo'se'f plum out.”

This the boy did at a length and with a violence unbelievable, Mammy sitting all the while at the side of the bed to see that he did not roll off and humming broken pieces of song as though perfectly unconcerned.

When the screaming had spent itself, and naught remained of it but long hard sniffles, Mammy began mumbling, ”Well, bless de Lawd, I bin thinkin'

I wus nussin' er fuss cla.s.s qual'ty chile all dis time, an' hyah it tu'n out I bin wor'in' m'se'f wid one er Sis' Sow's mis'r'ble little pigs.”

A low wail was the only answer to this thrust.

”Hit's de trufe! An' I done make up m' mine I ain't gwine do it no longer.

What's de use er me stayin' hyah, nussin' er pig chile, when I kin g'long an' nuss er fuss cla.s.s qual'ty chile like Mary Van, an' I'm gwine do it, too!”

One little arm reached out to the old woman:

”Mammy!”

But she continued: ”M'ye'rs is broke wid all dat pig holl'rin'! I don't speck I ev'r is ter heah no mo', neither!”

Sobbing and sniffling, the little boy crawled to her lap, and tried to look into her ear. She continued obstinately: ”Can't heah er thing! I knows you'se in m' lap, but les'n I seed yo' face I cudn't tell ef you wus laffin' er cryin'.”

Both arms went tight around her neck:

”Mammy, I won't be bad no mo'!”

Pretending to weep, Mammy said pathetically:

”I wush I cud heah! I speck Miss Lucy'll tu'n me out now, 'caze m'ye'rs won't hear no mo', an' den I'll hatt'r go off ter de woods an' die by m'se'f 'mongst de beastes; an' I speck dey'll kill me, 'caze I can't heah 'em comin'! Boo hoo!”

At this, Willis's suffering became so intense she feared to continue the punishment and so began another strain.

”But dey tells me dat ef folks whut's bin bad prays ter de Lawd an' kisses de place whut hurts, dat some time de Lawd makes de place well ergin; dat is,--ef de bad chile promise he ain' gwine be bad no mo'.”

Instantly the little swollen lips moistened with blubbers, covered first one black ear and then the other.

”An' dey got ter pray, too,” suggested Mammy.

”Now I lay me!” came in broken sniffles.

Suddenly throwing up her hands, a look of rapture on her face, Mammy shouted:

”Lawsee! I b'lieve I heahs you snifflin'!” She listened carefully: ”I does! Tell Mammy you loves her an' lemme see ef I kin heah you.”

”I loves--” began the little boy, nestling in her arms.

”'Cose I kin heah, but I tell yer de Lawd ain' gwine ter notice yo'

pray'rs no mo', ef you keeps letting de '_pig chile part_' er you come out.”

”I don't want ter be er pig chile!”