Part 41 (1/2)

”I tink dey's all right in dey place.”

”Where's their place?”

”Out in the kennel wid the dawg!” said Ardelia, shaking with laughter.

”All 'cepin' the Perfessor and Ma.s.sa Jarvis,” she added.

”You think they are a lower order, do you?”

”Ya.s.sum. I sho' do. Mos' of dem just clutterin' up the earth.”

”That's the reason you don't take that Johnson man on for good, is it?”

”Sho'! I ain't a-goin' to cook and wash fo' no n.i.g.g.e.r dat ain't got no appreciashun, when I can cook and wash fo' the Perfessor dat know a lady when he sees her.”

”But he so infrequently sees her,” giggled Bambi, _sotto voce_.

”No, ma'am, I's eatin' my white bread right here, and I knows it. I ain't goin' to experimentify wid no marryin', nor givin' in marriage.”

”In your case, I believe you're right. In my own, however, I know that, mad as I am this morning, 'experimentification' is the breath of life to me.”

They spent the morning in such peaceful converse. While Bambi may not have added greatly to the cherry-pitting, she rose rested and with a collected mind.

”Ardelia, I thank you for a dose of calm,” she said, laying her hand affectionately on the black woman's broad shoulder.

”Law, honey, I done enjoyed your sa.s.siety,” she said, laughing and patting her hand.

Within the course of a few days Bambi had an appeal from Jarvis:

”Are you ill? Is anything the matter? Are you merely tired of me that you do not write? Your letters are the only event of my days.”

This gave her the chance she wanted.

”You seem to be unaware, my dear Jarvis, that in offering a rude rebuff to Mr. Strong you offended me, since he is my good friend and came to see you at my request. I think you made as poor an impression on him as he did upon you, at the time of your meeting, and it was as a politeness to me that he came to look you up. I think an apology to both of us is rather necessary.”

A week elapsed, with no reply. Then came a characteristic answer:

”DEAR BAMBI: Please find enclosed copy of apology sent Strong to-day. I don't like him, but I have apologized. I also apologize to you. Please don't omit letters any more. They mean a great deal these days.”

She pondered this for some time. That Jarvis was going through new and trying experiences she realized. But this human appeal for her letters was so unlike the old Jarvis that she had to read it many times to believe it was actually there.

She wrote him at once, accepting his apology gracefully.

”Can't you come out for a few days' rest here, and go back in time to hear Frohman's verdict? We'd love to have you, especially the Professor and Ardelia.”

He answered that it was impossible to get away now. Later, possibly, he might come. He was grateful for the invitation. He never mentioned how he lived, and she did not ask him. The Professor's check he returned, with a note of thanks, saying he did not need it. The summer went by and fall came to town. Still there was no word of his return.

”My, this is a fat letter from Jarvis! Frohman must have accepted the play!” exclaimed Bambi one morning in September. She opened out the thick, folded paper.

”It's poetry,” she added. ”'Songs of the Street,' If he's gone back to poetry, I'm afraid he's lost.”