THE BISHOP AND THE BOOGERMAN
Being the Story of a Little Truly-Girl, Who Grew Up; Her MysteriousCompanion; Her Crabbed Old Uncle; the Whish-Whish Woods; a Very CivilEngineer, and Mr. Billy Sanders the Sage of Shady Dale
by
JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS
Drawings by Charlotte Harding
New YorkDoubleday, Page & Company1909
All Rights Reserved, Including That of Translationinto Foreign Languages, Including the Scandinavian
Copyright, 1907, by Sunny South Publishing Co.
Copyright, 1909, by Doubleday, Page & CompanyPublished, January, 1909
"They paused--then she pointed to the darkest corner"]
ILLUSTRATIONS
"They paused--then she pointed to the darkest corner"
"It seemed to Adelaide that it held a whole bushel of fried chicken andbiscuits"
"The child stared at her uncle so seriously that he was actuallyembarrassed"
"Old Jonas would listen by her bedside to convince himself that she wasreally breathing"
"They began to creep forward, making as little noise as possible"
"'You are pouting,' she said, 'or you'd never be sitting in this roomwhere nobody ever comes'"
"'That's why you see these shoes lookin' like they're spang new'"
"Mr. Sanders went from the courthouse with a sweeping stride"
THE BISHOP AND THE BOOGERMAN
PART I
The old Pig went to wander, The other went far to roam And, at last, when night was falling, And a little Pig was calling Never a one came home.
--_Rhunewalt's Ballads of Life_.
Adelaide and I have come to the conclusion that if you can't believeanything at all, not even the things that are as plain as the nose onyour face--if you can't enjoy what is put here to be enjoyed--if you aregoing to turn up your nose at everything we tell you, and deny thingsthat we know to be truly-ann-true, just because we haven't given you thecross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die sign--then it's your own fault if wedon't reply when you try to give the wipple-wappling call. And more thanthat, if you know so much that you don't know anything, or less thananything, you will have to go somewhere else to be amused andentertained; you will have to find other play-fellows. You mightpersuade us to play with you if you had something nicer than peppermintcandy, and sweeter than taffy, and then Adelaide would show you thingsthat you never so much as dreamed of before, and tell you things younever heard of.
Adelaide! Doesn't the very sound of the name make you feel a little bitbetter than you were feeling awhile ago? Doesn't it remind you of thesoftest blue eyes in the world, and of long curly hair, spun from summersunbeams that were left over from last season's growing? If all thesethings don't flash in your mind, like magic pictures on a whitebackground, then you had better turn your head away, and not botherabout the things I am saying. And another thing: Don't imagine that I amwriting of the Right-Now time, for, one day when Adelaide and I wereplaying in the garden, we found Eighteen-Hundred-and-Sixty-Eight hidingunder a honeysuckle vine, where it had gone to die. Adelaide picked thepoor thing up and put it in the warm place in her apron that she keepsfor all the weaklings; and now when we want to remember a great manythings, both good and bad, we go back to the poor thing we found underthe honeysuckle vine.
It was a very good thing that old Jonas Whipple, of Shady Dale, had asister who married and went to Atlanta, because Adelaide was in Atlanta,and nowhere else; it was the only place where she could have been found.Old Jonas's sister had been in Atlanta not longer than a year, if thatlong, when, one day, she found Adelaide, and appeared to be very fond ofher. At that time, Adelaide had hardly been aroused from her dreams. Shemay have opened her eyes sometimes, but she seemed sleepy; and when shesnored, as the majority of people will, when they are not put to bedright, everybody said she was crying. It was so ridiculous that shesometimes smiled in her sleep. But the most mysterious thing about it,was that old Jonas's sister knew she was named Adelaide almost as soonas she found her. Now, how did old Jonas's sister know that? Adelaideand I have often tried to figure it out when we were playing in thegarden, but no matter how many figures we made in the sand, there wasalways something or other in the top row that stood for No-Time, and wedidn't know how to add that up.
One day, Adelaide's father, who had been ailing a long time, became soill that a great many people came to the house in carriages and took himaway so that he might get well again. Adelaide hardly had time to forgetthat her father had gone away, before her mother went to bed one night,and, after staying there a long time, was carried away by the people whohad been so kind to her, only this time there were a great many morewomen in the house, and some of them went about acting as though theyhad been taking snuff. And there was a very nice old gentleman, with asmooth face, and a big ring on one of his fat fingers. As well asAdelaide could remember, this was the Peskerwhalian Bishop, and he wasjust as kind as he could be. He had a pink complexion just like a woman.He took Adelaide in his arms, and told her all about Heaven, andeverything like that, and then he felt about in his pockets and foundsome candy drops.
Adelaide knew very well that the people who came to the house were verymuch concerned about her. They talked in whispers when she was inhearing, but she knew by their sad faces that they were troubled aboutsomething, and she wished that they would get over it, and laugh andtalk as they used to do. When she went on the street, the little girlsshe met turned and looked at her curiously, and though they were veryfriendly indeed, they had the inquisitive look that older people havesuch a dread of. At first she thought her nose must be smutty, or herbonnet on crooked, or her frock torn; but when it turned out thateverything about her was according to the prevailing fashions ofcleanliness and correctness, she was quite content to be the observed ofall observers in her neighbourhood.
And then, one day (can it ever be forgotten by anybody who was living atthat time?), a lovely man, looking so much like the Bishop that Adelaidenamed him so, came after her and said that she was to go to Shady Dale,and live with her Uncle Jonas. This was Mr. Sanders--Billy Sanders, ofShady Dale. "I ain't sorry for you one bit," Mr. Sanders declared--I wasthere when he said it--"bekaze the first time I saw you, you made a faceat me."
"How did I look, and what else did I say?" Adelaide asked.
"You looked this way," replied Mr. Sanders, puckering up hiscountenance, "an' you said 'W-a-a-a!'"
"Then what did you say?" inquired Adelaide.
"Why, I shuck my fist at you an' said I never saw anybody look so muchlike your Uncle Jonas." Adelaide took all this very seriously, as shedid most things.
It turned out that she was to go to her Uncle Jonas, and that Mr.Sanders had come after her; and then, my goodness gracious! she was sofull of anticipation and joy that she was frightened for herself. Thekind ladies who had had charge of her told her not to be frightened, andto be very good, but she just rolled her big blue eyes, and had long,long thoughts about things of which she never breathed a word. Shestarted at last, and went with Mr. Sanders on the choo-choo train, andsuch a time as the two had buying tickets to Malvern, and laughing atthe people they saw, and getting their baggage checked, and getting onthe train, and watching the station slide back away from them so theycould get a good start--such a time has hardly been repeated for anybodyfrom that day to this.
A man caught a cinder in his eye, and ran with such speed to thewater-cooler that he turned the whole thing over; and it came down withsuch a crash that everybody was frightened except Mr. Sanders andAdelaide. Women screamed, babies squalled, and all the time the cinderman was saying things under his breath, and some of them sounded toAdelaide like the words that her good friend, the Peskerwhalian Bishop,used i
n his sermon, only they were not so fierce and emphatic. The childglanced around, and remarked with a satisfied smile: "It didn't scareCally-Lou." "I reckon not," Mr. Sanders remarked, although he had noidea what Adelaide meant.
Well, they reached Malvern in due time, and there, right at the station,was the stage-coach, which was driven by John Bell. Mr. Sandersintroduced Adelaide to the driver, who took off his hat and bowed verygravely, and after that it was only a few minutes before they were ontheir way to Shady Dale. If the choo-choo train had been fine, thestage-coach was finer; it was like getting in a swing and staying therea long time. There were a few passengers in the coach, and they allappeared to be very sleepy. When they nodded, as the most of them did,they fell about somewhat promiscuously--though Adelaide didn't think ofthat word--and made it somewhat uncomfortable for the child, who waswide awake and alert. But when they came to the place where the horseswere watered, John Bell leaned from his seat, and saw at a glance whatAdelaide's trouble was. In a jiffy he had her up on the swaying seatbeside him. It would have been a frightful position for most children,but Adelaide thought it was the grandest thing in the world. She wasseated almost directly above the two wheel horses, and not very far fromthe leaders. She could see their muscles rise and fall as they whirledthe coach along; she could see the flecks of foam made by the harness,and--well, it was just glorious! She had what Mr. Sanders called theChristmas feeling--the feeling that is ever ready to become awe ordelight--and the swing of the stage-coach kept her alternating betweenthe two.
It was wonderful, too, how one man could manage four great big horses,how he could guide them by merely touching one of the reins with the endof a finger; and then, when John Bell gave his long whip wide play,sending it through the air with a swish, and bringing it down as gentlyas a breath of wind on the back of the horse he desired to warn,Adelaide could have screamed with delight. There was a half-way housewhere the horses were changed, and when the coach stopped for thatpurpose, most of the passengers went into a near-by inn for theirdinner. One or two of them, however, had brought a lunch along. One ofthem offered Adelaide a share, saying: "Won't you have some of mydinner, Sissy?" Her mother had called her many fond names, but nothinglike that. John Bell glanced at her, and the expression on the littleface opened his eyes. "No, I thank you," he replied, "she'll go snuckswi' me." She snuggled up to John Bell--"Did you hear him?" she asked;"he called me Sissy." "I heard him," said John Bell; "I heard everyword, and just how he said it."
The lunch-basket that John Bell found under the seat was a wonder tosee. It seemed to Adelaide that it held a whole bushel of fried chickenand biscuits with yellow butter on the inside of each. "Now," said JohnBell, "there ain't enough vittles here for one, much less six." "Six!"cried Adelaide. "Yes'm; you and yourself, Mr. Sanders and his self, andme and myself." "Ef you're countin' me in," remarked Mr. Sanders, "jestadd three more figgers to the multiplication table." "And then," saidAdelaide very solemnly, "there's Cally-Lou and herself. Cally-Lou'sherself is just big enough to be counted," she went on, "but Cally-Louis bigger than I am. She's sitting right here by me; you could see herif you could turn your head quick enough. She dodges when she thinksanybody is going to look at her, because she is neither black nor white;she's a brown girl with straight black hair that wavies when you brushit."
"It seemed to Adelaide that it held a whole bushel offried chicken and biscuits"]
"Why, of course," said John Bell; "I'd know her anywhere. I was afraid,once or twice, that I'd put out her eye with my whip-lash."
"Oh, did you really see Cally-Lou?" cried Adelaide, with an ecstaticsmile.
"Didn't you hear what he said about the vittles?" remarked Mr. Sanders."Do you think he'd 'a' said that ef he'd 'a' seed only us three? I'llsay this much for John Bell before I eat all his chicken an'biscuits--he's nuther stingy ner greedy. Now, then," he went on, "jestshet you eyes, an' grab, bekaze the one that grabs the quickest will gitthat big hind leg there. My goodness! I can shet my eyes an' see it!"Whereupon Mr. Sanders and John Bell closed their eyes, and reached intothe basket, and one drew a back and a biscuit, and the other grabbed aneck and a biscuit. "We dassent shet our eyes any more," remarked Mr.Sanders, "bekaze if we do, Cally-Lou will git all the chicken!"
Talk about picnics or barbecues, or parties where you have to wear yourbest clothes, or receptions where you have tea-cakes and ice-cream! Why,this banquet on top of the stage-coach, where no strange person couldlook over your shoulder, and no one tell you not to eat with yourfingers, and not to tuck your napkin under your chin, like--like I don'tknow what--why, it was just simply a true fairy story, not one of themake-believe kind--the kind that grows out of the weariness ofinvention.
The feast was over much too soon, though all had had much more than wasgood for them. John Bell covered the treasure basket with a towel, andstowed it away in the big hollow place under the seat; then he beckonedto a negro who was helping with the horses. "Run down to the spring andfetch us some water, and be certain to get it out of the north side ofthe spring, where it is cold and sweet." The negro did this in a jiffy,and such water Adelaide had never before tasted. There was a wholebucketful, too. When they had all drunk their fill, Adelaide looked atMr. Sanders and John Bell with a frown. "What can we do for you now,ma'am?" Mr. Sanders asked.
"Why, I want you to turn your heads away. Cally-Lou says she is nearlyfamished for water, and she won't drink when any one is looking."
All this being done, everybody was ready to go. Mr. Sanders got in thestage, declaring that he must have his own warm place, John Bell tookthe reins that were handed to him by the hostlers, gave a harmless swishwith his long whip, and away they went to Shady Dale. It was all sostrange, and so pleasant that Adelaide could have wished the journey tocontinue indefinitely. But after a while, the houses they passed becamelarger and more numerous, and then the stage-coach made its appearanceon the public square that was one of the features of Shady Dale. Itrolled and swung toward the old tavern, and just when Adelaide thoughtthat John Bell was going to drive right into the house for her benefit,he gave a little twist to his wrist, and the leaders swung around. Eventhen it seemed that they would assuredly run headlong into the bigmulberry tree, and trample to death the man who was leaning against itin a chair; but just as the leader was about to plant his forefeet inthe man's bosom, John Bell sent another signal down the tightly heldreins, and the leaders swung around until the child could look rightinto their tired faces. And, oh, the thrill of it! Adelaide felt thatshe could just hug John Bell, but the man who had made such a narrowescape from the horses' feet had an entirely different view of thematter.
"You shorely must be tryin' to show off," he growled to John Bell; "an'what for, I'd like to know? The next time you kill me, I'll have the lawon you!"
"Quite so," remarked John Bell, with a grin that showed his white teeth."But I want you to know that I've got company; let folks that ain't gotcompany look out for themselves! Have you seen Mr. Jonas Whipple aroundhere?"
"You don't want to run over old Jonas, do you?" replied the man. "AllI've got to say is, jest try it! Old Jonas is a lot tougher than what Iam."
"I'd run over him in a minnit if it would give my company any pleasure,"said John Bell. "I've got a package for him that come all the way fromAtlanta, an' I reckon the best thing to do is to take it right straightto his house. It's wropped in cloth, an' he's got to give me a receiptfor it!"
"Oh, I know!" cried Adelaide, pouting a little; "you are talking aboutme!"
"Drive on!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, who was sitting on the inside of thestage-coach. "I'll have my ride out ef I have to set in here ontellto-morrer."
"Quite so!" exclaimed John Bell, and with that, he signalled theleaders, all the other passengers having got out by this time, and inless than no time the coach was whirling in the direction of old JonasWhipple's house.
I'd like to show you how the neighbours came to their doors and stared;I can't describe it on paper, but if you were sitting where you couldsee my moti
ons and gestures you'd laugh until you cried. The way thehorses swept down that long red hill, leading from the tavern to oldJonas's, was assuredly a sight to see; and not only the neighbours sawit. Old Jonas saw it, and Lucindy saw it, too. Lucindy tried hard to betwo persons that day; she'd look at old Jonas and frown, and then she'dlook at the stage-coach and smile all over her face. She was mad on oneside and glad on the other--mad because old Jonas wasn't as excited asshe was, and glad because the child was coming. But old Jonas had a verygood reason for his lack of excitement; he had such a cold that he couldhardly talk for coughing, and such a bad cough that he could hardlycough for wheezing. And before he would come to the door, he wrapped hisneck in a piece of red flannel. He tried to smile when he saw Adelaidewaving her flower-like hand, and the smile came near strangling him. ButLucindy, the cook, was more than equal to the emergency; she whipped offher big apron and waved it up and down at arm's length, which was quiteas hearty a welcome as any one would wish to have. I am sure that no oneelse ever received such a welcome at old Jonas's door. Up swept thestage, around it swung, and then, "All out for Whipple's Cross-roads!"
Mr. Sanders had his head out of the window, and saw Adelaide lift herlovely face and kiss John Bell. It must have been a great strain on JohnBell to stoop so low, for when he straightened himself he was very redin the face.
"That," said Mr. Sanders, who was a close observer, "is the first timeanybody has kissed John Bell since he was a baby. That's what makes himsweat so!"
"Much you know about such things," exclaimed John Bell, mopping his facewith a red bandana. Nobody knows to this day how Lucindy managed to takethe trunk from the boot of the stage, and place it in the veranda intime to run back and seize Adelaide and pull her through the window ofthe coach before any one could open the door. But such was the feat sheperformed in her excitement. Mr. Sanders appeared to be so surprisedthat he could do nothing but pucker up his face, pretending he wascrying, and yell out: "Lucindy's took Miss Adelaide, an' now who's gwineto take me out'n this stage. Ef you don't come an' git me, Jonas, I'llbe took off by John Bell, an' you won't never see me no more!" Old Jonaslooked at Mr. Sanders as if he were in a dream, and had not heardaright. Observing this, Mr. Sanders kept up the pretence, and he criedso loudly, and to such purpose, that the neighbours on each side of thestreet came running to their front doors to see what the trouble was.And then old Jonas became furiously angry. "Take him away, John Bell!"he commanded; "I hold you responsible! Confound you! why don't you driveon." With that he went into the house.
Mr. Sanders cared not a whit for old Jonas's irritation, and so healighted from the coach and followed the rest into the house. He wasjust in time to hear Adelaide begin her course of instruction to oldJonas.
"Nunky-Punky," said she, very solemn, "why didn't you wait forMr.----oh, I know who he is, he's the Peskerwhalian Bishop!--why didn'tyou wait for the Bishop?"
"Much he looks like a bishop!" replied old Jonas, when he could controlhis cough. "Did you ever hear a bishop boo-hooing and carrying on inthat way?"
The child stared at her uncle so seriously that he was actuallyembarrassed. He rubbed his hand over a sharp chin that needed a razorvery badly, and really forgot that he was angry with Mr. Sanders. Thensomething quite shocking occurred to Adelaide's nimble mind.
"The child stared at her uncle so seriously that he wasactually embarrassed"]
"Oh, Nunky-Punky!" she cried, "you didn't kiss me when I comed, andeverybody said you would, cause I asked 'em particular."
"Honey," said Mr. Sanders, "le' me stand in Nunky-Punky's shoes whilethe kissin' is gwine on, bekaze he ain't shaved in two days, and hiswhiskers'll scratch your face."
But Adelaide ran to old Jonas, and held out her little arms to be liftedup. Jonas hesitated; he looked at Lucindy, then at Mr. Sanders, andfinally allowed his glance to fall on the sweetly solemn face of thechild. He tried to say something, to make some excuse, but he couldthink of none. He was not only dreadfully embarrassed, he was actuallyashamed. Not in forty years had any one ever asked to kiss him and,whether you count it backward or forward, forty years is a long time.Mr. Sanders tried to pilot him through the deep water--so to speak--inwhich he found himself. "Sit down, Jonas, and take Miss Adelaide on yourknee, an' let the thing be done right. Kinder shet your eyes an' puckeryour mouth, and she'll do the rest."
"Sanders," said old Jonas, bristling up again, "if you really want tohurt my feelings just say so. You have no real delicacy about you. Howdo you know some one hasn't told the little girl that it is her duty topretend to want to kiss her uncle, whether she wants to or not? Tell methat!" Old Jonas's eyes glistened under his overhanging brows, and if"looks" could kill a man, Mr. Sanders would have fallen down dead.Adelaide dropped her arms, and stood close to old Jonas's knee, lookingquite forlorn. "Well, come on, Cally-Lou, Uncle Jonas has a very badcold and a headache, and we mustn't bother him."
"No, no, no!" cried old Jonas, screwing up his face until it looked likethe seed-ball of a sweet-gum tree. "There are some things a man has todo whether he's used to them or not. Come here and kiss me if you reallywant to." Adelaide turned, tossing her head as if she were growner thana grown woman, and went toward old Jonas with the queerest little smileever seen. Her feelings had been dreadfully hurt, but not a quiver ofmouth or eyelid disclosed the fact, and only Cally-Lou knew it. OldJonas sat down in his favourite chair, and took the child on his knee.If he had to be a martyr, he would go through the performance asgracefully as he could. Adelaide made great preparations. She felt ofhis chin with one hand, while she threw the other around his neck. Sheseemed to know instinctively that old Jonas was rather timid when itcame to kissing people, and she went to his rescue. "Now, I'm not goingto kiss him until all you people turn your heads away. No, that won'tdo! You've got to turn clean around, and look the other way!" She waiteduntil she had been obeyed, and then, as nimbly as a humming-bird kissesa flower, she kissed the grim old man, and slid from his knee.
"Ten-ten-double-ten-forty-five-fifteen!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. "Alleyes open! I'm gwine to peep!"
Adelaide laughed joyously, and when Mr. Sanders turned around she wasstanding in the middle of the floor.
"You're It!" he said to Jonas. Then the smile disappeared from his face."Lucindy," he said, "do you reckon Mr. Whipple would buss me ef I was toast him?" The question was a little too much for Lucindy, and shedisappeared in the direction of the kitchen, bent double with laughter.
"Sanders, why do you make a joke out of everything? Did you ever reflectthat there is somewhere a limit to some things?"
"I certainly do, Jonas, an' you come mighty nigh reachin' it wi' meawhile ago. Ef you hadn't 'a' let that child kiss you when she wantedto, I'd 'a' went out'n yon' door an' I'd 'a' never darkened itag'in--not in this world."
"Well, your common sense should tell you, Sanders, that people ain'tmade alike. What you are keen to do I have no appetite for, and what I'mfond of, you have no relish for. That's plain enough, I reckon."
"Ef that's a conundrum, Jonas, I thank my Maker that the answer isplain, yes!"
Old Jonas looked hard at Mr. Sanders as though he wanted to saysomething. He stuck out his chin, and looked toward the ceiling; then helooked at the floor, and began to rub his hands briskly together. Thenhis thought came out: "Sanders," he said, almost hospitably, "supposeyou stay to supper to-night; or, if you can't stay until supper's ready,suppose you come back to supper? How will that suit you? I----"
"Well, I'll tell you the truth, Jonas: ef you think you need me for topertect you from that child, you're mighty much mistaken. I don'tbelieve that Miss Adelaide would harm a ha'r on your head, few as you'vegot."
"Nonsense, Sanders! you twist every mortal thing around in your mind,and you are never happy until you set your best friends up as a targetfor your folly. Answer my question: will you take supper with--with us?"
Mr. Sanders regarded old Jonas with real interest. His mild but fearlessblue eyes studied the other's face as if they would read there the
solution to some mystery. "Yes, Jonas; I'll not stay to supper, but I'llcome back in time for supper. But don't publish it; ef the public know'danything about it, they might think I was tryin' for to wheedle you outof a loan, an' then what'd happen? Why, all my creditors would comeswarmin' aroun' me like gnats aroun' a sleepin' dog. I could jest aswell stay right here tell supper time, but I'm oblidze for to git outan' walk about a little, an' git the amazement out'n my system. Off an'on, Jonas, I've been a-knowin' you mighty nigh thirty year, an' this isthe fust time you've ast me to take a meal in your house. I feel asfunny as a flushed pa'tridge!"
Jonas stalked out of the room pretending to be very angry, but he beganto chuckle as soon as his back was turned. "Sanders is out of hissphere," he said to himself. "More than half the time he should have abig tent over his head and be rigged up like a clown." Mr. Sanderswatched the door through which old Jonas had gone, as if he expected himto come back. Then he called out to him: "Jonas! be shore to havesomethin' for supper that me an' that child can eat!"
Old Jonas heard the voice of Mr. Sanders, but he paid no attention toits purport. He went on into the kitchen where Adelaide and Lucindy werehaving a conversation. He tried to smile at the child, but he realisedthat his face was not made for smiles. It may have been different in thedays of his boyhood, and probably was, but since he had devoted himselfto the heartless problems that beset a man who is money-mad, the facialmuscles that smiling brings into play had become so set in otherdirections, and had been so frequently used for other purposes, thatthey made but a poor success of a smile. Realising this, he turned toLucindy, with a business-like air. "Lucindy, Mr. Sanders is coming tosupper; I reckon he knows how you can cook, for he jumped at theinvitation. And then there's the little girl; we must have somethingnice and sweet for her," he went on.
"No, Mr. Jonas!" Lucindy exclaimed; "nothin' sweet fer dis chile; des alittle bread an' milk, er maybe a little hot-water tea."
"Well, you know about that," remarked Jonas, with a sigh; "we shall haveto get a nurse for the child, I reckon."
Lucindy drew a deep breath. "A nuss fer dat chile! Whar she gwineterstay at? Not in dis kitchen! not in dis house! not on dis lot! No, suh!Ef she do, she'll hafter be here by herse'f. I'll drive her off, an' denyou'll go out dar on de porch an' call her back; an' wid dat, I'll saygood bye an' far'-you-well! Yes, la! I kin stan' dis chile, here, an' Ikin 'ten' ter what little ten'in' ter she'll need--but a new nigger onde place! an' a triflin' gal at dat! No suh, no suh! you'll hafterscuzen me dis time, an' de nex' time, too."
Old Jonas walked from one end of the kitchen to the other, his facepuckered up with anger, and looking as if he were on the point ofbursting into tears. "Well, by the livin' Jimminy! can't I do what Iplease in my own house? Can't I get my own niece a nurse if I want to?"
Lucindy placed both hands under her apron, and looked as if she wereswelling up. "Yasser," she exclaimed; "yasser, an' yasser, an' yasser.An' whiles you're gittin' a nurse, don't let it 'scape off'n your min'dat you'll want a cook!" She turned to the child, and the tone of hervoice couldn't have been more different if it had come from the lips ofanother woman: "Honey, don't git too close ter de stove; ef yo' frockketches afire you won't need no nuss. Mr. Billy Sanders'll be a-knockin'at dat do' present'y, an' supper ain't nigh ready--an' dey won't be nosupper ef I got ter be crowded outer my own kitchen."
Adelaide looked and listened, and finally she said: "Aunt Lucindy,Cally-Lou says she doesn't like to be where people are mad andquarreling. She's afraid she'll have to go off somewhere else."
"Whar is Cally-Lou, honey? an' how big is she?"
"Oh, she's lot's bigger than me," replied Adelaide, very primly, "andshe's sitting on the floor right by me. She says that fussing gives hernervy posteration."
"You say dat Cally-Lou is settin' on de flo' by yo' side?" Lucindyasked, opening her eyes a little wider. "Den how come I can't see her?"
"Well," said Adelaide, turning her soft blue eyes on the negro woman,and speaking with what seemed to be perfect seriousness, "she isn't usedto you yet, and then she has had such a bad day!"
Lucindy paused in her work and took a long look at the pretty face ofthe child. "I can't see her, honey, but dat ain't no reason she ain'tdar whar you say she's at. Let 'lone dat, it's a mighty good reason whyshe _is_ dar!"
After a little Adelaide went into the sitting-room, and there found herUncle Jonas sitting in the twilight that came dimly through the windows.She crept to his side, and leaned her head with its long golden curlsagainst his arm. She may have wondered why he failed to take her on hisknee, but she said nothing, and he, being busy with some old, oldthoughts that came back to him, was as silent as the fat china dog thatsat peacefully by the fireplace.
Presently Lucindy came in to light the lamps, and saw the child standingby old Jonas. "Honey!" she exclaimed in a startled tone, "ain't youtired to death? Ain't yo' legs 'bout to give way fum under you? I betyou Cally-Lou done gone ter bed----"
"No," said Adelaide; "she's very tired, but she's standing up just likeme." The next thing to happen was the entrance of Mr. Sanders, whoseemed to bring the fresh breezes with him. He seized Adelaide in hisarms, and carried her into the dining-room. When all were seated,Adelaide waited a moment, as though she was expecting something. Thenshe placed her little hands over her face, leaned her head nearly downupon the table, and said grace silently; and but for the audible amen,the men would never have guessed what she was doing.
"I hope you mentioned my name," said Mr. Sanders, with due solemnity.
The child paid no attention to the remark, nor did she even glance atany one at the table, until the genial guest turned to the host and madea polite inquiry. "Jonas, do you button these napkins on before orbehind? I don't want to make any blunder if I can help it."
At this, Adelaide looked up and saw that Mr. Sanders was trying to tie acorner of the tablecloth around his neck. The sight was so unexpectedthat she gave forth a peal of the merriest laughter ever heard, andLucindy gave a snort of discomfiture.
"I declar' ter gracious!" she exclaimed, "ef I ain't done gone andfergit de napkins!"
The oversight was soon remedied, and everything went along all rightuntil Mr. Sanders, taking a spoon in his hand, said to the child:
"Miss Adelaide, I'll bet you and Cally-Lou can't do this."
He placed the spoon so far in his mouth that nothing could be seen but asmall part of the handle. Lucindy had to leave the room, and the childlaughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. When she could controlherself, she said, reproachfully:
"Bishop, some day you'll choke yourself--you may ask anybody--and thenwhat will the people do?"
Bishop and the Boogerman Page 1
