“Susan,” Tom called to her softly, “befo’ anybody git hyuh, I wan’ ax you somh’n.”
“Susan,” Tom called to her softly, “befo’ anybody git hyuh, I wan’ ax you somh’n.”
“Yas, Tom, I’m list’nin’,” she answered.
He took a long pull at his pipe, blew the smoke out slowly, then said:
“If any de members hyuh tonight raise de queshton concernin’ Bell, you ain’ goin’ leave ’um specify, is you?”
Walking over to his chair, Susan put her hand on his shoulder, and said quietly:
“Is you ever known me to tamper wid de devil aft’ I done beat ’im out my track?”
“You right, Susan. Da’s sufficien’,” he answered, and went on with his peaceful smoking.
The first member to arrive was Scilla, a tall, buxom, good-natured young woman with a snub nose and surprised-looking eyes. Her dress was a guinea blue, of plain make, the “josey” very close-fitting. Her head was bare; and her only ornamentation, a pair of large, flat, pearl earrings, which seemed to heighten the bizarre expression of her humorous face and the velvety sheen of her ebon complexion.
She came bursting into the room suddenly, calling out in mock-excitement:
“But no, Sis’ Susan! W’at you an’ Mr. Tom doin’, settin’ hyuh in de dark together like ole folks? Nobody ain’ come yet? Dis de right night, ain’ it?”
“For Gawd sake, Scilla, don’ be so boist’us,” Susan replied, getting up to light the lamps on the table, and quietly putting them in their places.
“O ’scuse me, Sis’ Susan; I didn’ know y’all was holin’ a wake,” returned Scilla playfully.
“Gal, set down an’ be still like people,” said Tom.“You ain’ bin hyuh for a week, an’ you mus’ be got some news to tell, ’side yo’ random talk. Susan, bring de gal a cup o’ coffee an’ leave her git to business.”
“Da’s right, Mr. Tom. I wan’ make you laugh ’bout my w’ite folks,” Scilla answered.
Susan brought her a cup of coffee, and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Scilla helped herself generously to sugar, and as she stirred her coffee, began her gossip.
“You ain’ goin’ b’lieve me w’en I tell you I ain’ workin’ for Miss Mimi no longer.” (Looks of astonishment from Tom and Susan.) “I deshadto leave. You know, dey say niggers ain’ got no principle. But dey got a whole lot o’ w’ite folks w’at ain’ a bit better.”
“Scilla, ain’ you shame to scandalize de people you gits yo’ livin’ from?” Susan asked in honest surprise.
“Who? Sis’ Susan, I ain’ say’n nothin’ w’at ain’ true. Is Miss Mimi ever paid you anything for de many times I comed hyuh an’ borried yo’ gahlic an’ peppers an’ seas’nin’ an’ things to put in her vittuls w’en she had big comp’ny to her house? Try’n to make a show, an’ lookin’ to de niggers to help her out?... Who? Dat ain’ w’at I calls principle.”
“Gal, don’ talk so fas’,” Susan told her. “I’m knowin’ Miss Mimi ever since she was a baby-chile.”
“But she done los’ her baby-ways now; an’ you ain’ know her since she growed up an’ got ways like dey say us niggers got.”
“Scilla, you sho is crittacul,” said Tom. “Go ’head an’ talk w’at you start to talk.”
Scilla looked towards Susan for permission to go on. Finding no objection, she continued:
“’Tain much to tell. I des wan’ let you know I lef’ Miss Mimi ’cause I des natchally got tired seein’ her losin’ her self-respec’, an’ hyeahin’ w’ite folks talkin’ ’bout her behin’ her back evvy time dey seen me. Bein’ a nigger, how could I make ’um shut dey mouth? So de bes’ thing for me to do was to quit.”
“You didn’t go ’way hap-hazzud, widout givin’ notice, did you?” Susan inquired, with a note of severity in her voice.
“No,” Scilla answered. “We come to a understannin’ a whole day befo’ I lef’.... ’Twas on a Sad’dy mawnin’; an’ she was goin’ have comp’ny for dinner de nex’ day; an’ she say she want me to try and git her some vi’lets for de table, same as I always bin doin’.
“You see, evvy time she gived a big dinner, shehad to have flowers for de front room an’ de dinner table; an’ nothin’ but vi’lets would please her. She ain’ had but a few scat’rin’ vi’lets in her own yard; so w’at she mus’ do but sen’ me all over Gritny to git vi’lets from anybody w’at had ’um in dey gahden.—An’ she ain’ offer to pay for ’um, no.
“So you kin un’stan how shame’ I felt;—callin’ at people gate an’ axin’ for vi’lets for Miss Mimi, an’ ain’ had a dry nickel to pay for ’um.
“One nice w’ite lady dey calls Miss Tillie, always gimme w’at she had in her gahden. But some dem stingy Dutch people w’at had plenny vi’lets, wouldn’ gimme nothin’.
“One day, one ole red-head lady tol’ me I was lyin’. Dat Miss Mimi ain’ sont me for no vi’lets; dat I was beggin’ ’um for my own self.... Den I got mad.—People takin’ me for a fatal rogue; an’ I ain’ had no way to convince ’um I was jes’ try’n to do de w’ite folks wishes. So I went straight back an’ give Miss Mimi de complete un’stannin’, an’ let her know ’bout her position wid de vi’lets de same as mine. Den I tol’ her I’d come cook de dinner dat Sunday, an’ help her out wid de comp’ny; but she cert’ny had to git somebody else to hunt flowers for her; ’cause it sho made me feel strange to have all Gritny suspicion me on a cheap li’l thing like a few scat’ring vi’lets.”
As she paused for breath, Tom gave an emphatic grunt by way of surprise, and asked rather dubiously:
“So da’s how come you quit? I thought w’en you commence to talk you was goin’ tell somh’n; but you done talked all ove’ yo’ mouth an’ ain’ tol’ nothin’ yet.”
“Who, Mr. Tom?” Scilla returned, having recovered sufficiently to being another pasquinade. “You ain’ think I’m play’n’, is you? Jes’ lemme git started talkin’ ’bout w’ite folks funny ways, an’ you sho will lissen w’at I’m tellin’ you.... But lemme shet up,” she added hurriedly; seeing the form of another visitor entering the front door. “’Cause hyuh come Mr. Felo; an’ too many witness ain’ good w’en it come to havin’ a coat-scrape.”