"IT IN TRUTH MUCH CHEERED HER TO SEE MAMMY LEEZER COME TRUNDLING ALONG.""IT IN TRUTH MUCH CHEERED HER TO SEE MAMMY LEEZER COME TRUNDLING ALONG."
"What a-matter, honey?" The question was in the caressing voice of the old Mammy.
"I was wishing," said Sally.
"What for?"
"For things I must wait long before getting."
"And you want 'em bad, honey?"
"Oh, dreadfully."
Mammy shook like a jelly-bag. "You look a-here," she said, "you jus' look a-here; jus' as shore as a lil young one have a clef in de middle ob her chin way down, she a-goin' fo' toget what she want'n. You mind now! I neber seen a lil pick'ninny, white or brack, have a split long de lower story ob her chin, but firs' or last she's gett'n' her own way. Doan't yo' fret now, but 'member what I tole you, and you's all right. And yo' lil chin is most split'n' in half. Lorr! it a mercy it hole togedder so long!"
Mammy went rolling along, still shaking with laughter, while away ran Sally for a peep into her fragment of a mirror.
"My chinissplit along the middle way down low," she said, "and perhaps Mammy knows!"
She felt happy again when it came time to put the leaf up against the wall, get down the plates from the old dresser, mix the ash-cakes for supper, and set the rashers to sizzling.
When Sally went to the attic, having it in her mind to fix herself up a little, she had a feeling of anxiety she did not understand. But you see, it was the new Sally, beginning, just beginning, to spring into life.
And the first thing she was learning was her own ignorance, her own needs, and her own wants.
"My head is like a scarecrow!" she said; "where can I find a comb?"
She crept down to Mistress Cory Ann's room and found a coarse, half-broken comb. Alas! she could do nothing with it. Her ruddy hair curled around it, across it, along it, but through it the matted mass would not go.
It had taken a few moments to make the attempt, and time was precious. So the tangled mop was smoothed over, the old dress pressed down, and off ran Sally for her secret, rocky seat by the wall.
Not long had she waited when a merry company came trooping over to the arbor and young voices filled the air. Sally knew the voice of the Fairy Prince, of his sister Lucretia, and his cousin Rosamond. And when the names of "Reginald" and "Irene" reached her, she knew that young Reginald Bromfeld and Mistress Irene Westwood, besides two or three others, had rustled over to the airy summer-house.
Much it pleased her for awhile to hear the bright and witty speeches that were bandied to and fro; then Sam Spruce, a colored boy of about twenty years, in white short sack, black cotton trousers, and white apron, came gliding over the side lawn, tray in hand, and on it were small glasses, a crystal pitcher, a silver cake dish, delicate plates, and very small, snowy napkins.
"Well, Sam," exclaimed Lionel, in the freeand easy speech often used toward the blacks, "what have you brought for our refreshment?"
Sam, who had been born in the colonies and felt pride in his niceness of speech, replied:
"There 'r' jujube paste patties, macaroons, and sangaree, Mars' Li'nel."
"Very good, Sam. Set the tray on yonder bench; we will see to passing things ourselves."
There was a cheerful chinking of glasses, much laughter, and the sound of gay spirits, while, her sharp imagination at work, Maid Sally fancied herself one of the group above her head; "and yet," she said to herself, "should my Fairy Prince indeed sit beside me, and hand me fine delicate food and a sweet drink, I think I might die of delight, I do indeed!"
In a few minutes more, the poor child's pleasure became disturbed, for Corniel, the colored butler, came shuffling over to the arbor and said, in a manner dignified and respectful:
"Mars' Lion, dar have mor' comp'ny come over to de house, and Mars' Gran'son he send his comperalmunts, and would like fo' to havede young people come up to de drawin'-room and make some music on de peranna and de wiolin."
"Very well, Corniel, we will come directly," answered Lionel, and away trooped the high-born lads and young mistresses, leaving Corniel to gather up the dishes, and leaving poor disappointed little Sally to wander off from the spot that all at once had become quiet and lonely.
As it would be daylight for the space of two hours more, Sally roamed about, amusing herself at seeing what else was going on round and about the place.
Peeping through the garden fence, she watched a colored man, who, kneeling before the flower-beds, plucked up the weeds, tossing them aside, and trolling a light song as he worked.
"I too, would sing, could I but live at Ingleside," murmured Maid Sally.
But an inner voice replied: "You would not wish to be a servant anywhere."
Then across she went to the bars that formed the far boundary of the wide garden.
Well back of the house in the direction of the stables, old Uncle Gambo was cutting grass with a winding scythe, that had a handle so long it reached way above the old man's head.
Uncle Gambo declared he was "a hun'erd an' ten yeah ole," and as no one could very well dispute it, no one tried to. But as year after year rolled away, Uncle Gambo would still say, "I'se a hun'erd and ten yeah ole."
"Yes, but the same story you told me two years ago, Uncle Gambo," Lionel once said to him. "You must be a hundred and twelve now."
The old negro shook his white, woolly head. "No, no! I'se a hun'erd and ten yeah ole; I allurs was, I allurs shell be."
That settled it. But as the white people knew that the colored men and women usually became seventy-five or a hundred years old very rapidly with their way of reckoning, no one so much wondered at Uncle Gambo's age.
Sally watched the old man reaping, for it fascinated her to see the rich, ripe grass lie smooth and evenly shorn wherever the scythe'skeen blade swept over it. Then she strolled still farther along, trotting down and down until she stood near the stables.
A groom was trying to comb a splendid black hunter,—a fine saddle horse,—that champed as though a bit were in its mouth, and stepped and curved around, until Bill, the groom, was out of patience and exclaimed:
"Come now, Hotspur, you crazy coot, stan' still, cain't you! Be a genl'man fo' once, Hotspur, and I'll comb you with a bran' fire new brush, Mars' gib me las' night."
At that a queer, wiry brush, partly worn out, was thrown over the bars, falling so near Sally's head, it was well it missed hitting her. But no one saw the little girl beyond the strip fence, and immediately Bill was combing Hotspur's glossy sides with strokes so strong and even that the great horse stood stock still.
Sally looked at the brush Bill had tossed away.
"That looks as if it would make my hair lay slick," she said. "I'll take it home, carry it tothe spring and wash it, and try it on my own mane."
She laughed at her own funny words and put the brush in a hanging pocket under her gown, that Mistress Brace had made for her to carry money in safely, when she went on errands.
Then away and away she wandered until she had reached the quarters and could peep at the cabins of the colored people through bushes and shrubs that were far beyond the stone wall, but on the same side.
At a little distance she looked upon Mammy Leezer sitting against the side of her cabin on a chair that had no back, her pipe in mouth, her hands lying idly in her lap, the knitting for once laid aside.
Sally wished she dared go over and talk with the old woman. Yet again that inner voice answered: "No, no! Mammy Leezer, though kind and comforting betimes, could not be a fitting companion for you. Go not after her, even though it be pleasant to meet herand hear her soft voice when she speaks to thee."
"Perhaps it is because she is black," thought Sally.
"Oh no, no!" spoke the little uprising voice again. "It is because you are different in every way from her and her race, and must not forget it."
Then it was that Sally remembered that several times of late there had seemed to be an inner voice that talked to her, and tried to teach her things she had not known, or at least had not thought of before.
She gave a quick jump, clapped her hands, and exclaimed, in a soft but jubilant voice:
"Oh, I know what I will do! I'll make believe there are two of me. One shall be really me, Sally Dukeen, then there shall be another Sally, a fine, new one, that has been taught by the Fairies, and knows all things that are seemly and proper, even as the upper people do.
"Yes, and I will talk with her," Sally wenton, the pleasant imagination rapidly growing in her quick mind. "I will ask her what to do and how to act, and listen I will to all she can teach."
The idea pleased her so much that she was in a mood to enjoy anything, and she was feeling light-hearted and full of smiles, as a little toddling pickaninny, or small black child, ran up to Mammy Leezer, crying out:
"Trip! Trip! go trip, go trip!"
"Lordy sakes!" exclaimed Mammy, "if here isn't lil' Jule asting me fo' to dance her. I ain't got de strength to dance yo' to-night, lil' honey, de rheumatiz have ketched a holt of my back too bad, and got all de grit outen me."
"Trip! trip!" cried the cute little Jule, running up to Sam Spruce, who was on a rough chair made from tree branches.
"I cain't sing the jingle," said Sam.
"No matter," said Mammy, with a wide grin, "you dance de lil' cricket, an' I'll do de singin'."
At that Sam crossed his knees, put little Juleon one foot, and bending over, kept hold of the child's hands while Mammy crooned in a loud singsong, chiefly to one note:
"Trip-a-trop-a-tronjes,De-vorken-in-de-boonjes,De-koejes-in-de-klaver,De-Paarden-in-de-haver,De-eenjes-in-de-waterplass,So-pop! my-lil'-pick'ninny goes!"
"Trip-a-trop-a-tronjes,De-vorken-in-de-boonjes,De-koejes-in-de-klaver,De-Paarden-in-de-haver,De-eenjes-in-de-waterplass,So-pop! my-lil'-pick'ninny goes!"
As Mammy began the slow singsong, Sam began gently swinging the foot up and down on which sat the tiny, laughing Jule, and as the jingle went on, the foot swung faster and faster, until, as Mammy brought out the words, "So pop! my lil' pick'ninny goes!" Sam tossed the shrieking child into his lap, where she could only gasp with laughter, until able to catch her breath.
Then it was one crying tease for "Anudder trip! Anudder trip!" until six times had baby Jule been teetered on Sam's strong foot, and tossed into Sam's strong arms, Mammy meantime beating the measure with both feet as shetrolled the song with its rapturous "pop!" for little Jule.
The sixth trip was ended as Corniel came leisurely over the grass.
"Mammy," he said, "Mars' Gran'son send word dat de capting and some udders will have supper to-morr' night on de green over by de summer-house. And he want you to make some porkapine marmalade, some melon puff, some peach tart, and some sorghum foam to eat on pandowdy with de salads."
Mammy immediately straightened up, put on a face of great importance, and began:
"I ain't fit fo' to try cookin' fancy tings fo' gret suppers, but—"
"Oh, very well," said Corniel, interrupting her, "Jinny can do it if you ain't able; Mars' said so."
But Mammy cried out, in a tone that made her soft voice seem very shrill:
"Go 'way, you C'neel, talkin' 'bout Jinny doin'mycook'ry. I'd like to be seein' de porkapine marm'ladeshe'dbe makin'! And whatdo dat Jinny know 'bout whipped sorghum or melon puff, I should like to inquaire! Tote off, now, you C'neel, an' don't go talkin' 'bout dat Jinny doin' my fancy cook'ry any mor', but jus' you tell Mars' Gran'son I'll hev dat supper firs' class in eb'ry respeck."
Sally somehow liked the pride and scorn that rang out in Mammy's voice at the idea of there being any one else who could do her cooking as well as she could.
"She believes in herself," thought Sally, "and it is a good thing."
Mammy hobbled into her cabin as Corniel and Sam went toward the house, little Jule tagging into the cabin after Mammy. And Sally went back through the sweet air and green roads, and through Shady Path and Lover's Lane, her mind and ears full of the merry laughter of happy little Jule.
When Sally heard the order for the supper company the next night, she at once decided that her own simple meal must be quickly eaten, as she must see something of the fine things at Ingleside.
By standing on the rocks it would be easy to peep through the thin tangle near the arbor just above her head and close by the wall. It would not do to take long peeps, but she could take several for a moment at a time. Yet she must beware: a sudden gust of wind might part the slight brush, show her bright eyes, then, alas, the pleasure it might take from her!
Oh, but it was wonders she did with the old brush, the same that the groom had thrownaway at Ingleside! She did not wait until evening to try it, but during the afternoon, with the bit of looking-glass propped up before her, she patiently brushed and brushed, until something like a parting appeared along the middle of her well-shaped head.
At that she took a stout pin, and running it down the uneven seam, made a beautiful even parting, the thick, ruddy hair standing high on each side of it.
"My, how pretty that looks!" innocently murmured the child. Then again she brushed and brushed, until the ripply mass shone like unto burnished gold. And now, instead of a matted mop, it lay row upon row of soft, loose, orderly ringlets, so careless yet neat in arrangement that Sally awoke right there to a knowledge of the extreme beauty of her luxurious hair.
She gurgled with laughter, saying, in the pretended new voice:
"You will find out considerable about yourself, Maid Sally, what you can do, and maybewhat you can be, if only you follow what I teach. High time it is you waked up."
Then replied a forlorn young voice:
"Yes, but what good doth it do a poor thing like me to wake up? It is only to find out how mean and soiled is my dress, how brown are my hands and feet, and worst of all, that no matter how hard I might long for it, learning is not for a maid of my quality."
"Prithee, be patient!" cried the new Sally, cheerily. "Thou hast already made of thyself a more seemly looking maid; still better things may come ere long."
New words came into Sally's mind as she talked to her other self, and her language became more proper, sure sign that somewhere within her a truly fine nature was hidden away.
When she appeared at supper that afternoon, Mistress Cory Ann exclaimed:
"Oh, good Peter! do look at the young one's head, will you? Now have you been meddling with my comb to-day?" she asked, sharply.
"I found an old brush that I washed andused, Mistress," Sally answered, "and I think it were time my hair should be made decent."
"Now don't go wasting time trying to get up smart looks," said Mistress Cory Ann; for, truth to tell, it was sorry she felt to see the great change and improvement in Sally's appearance. And what was more, she had noticed that the useful child was growing careful and thoughtful in a way she did not at all desire she should. Because, if Sally began making the most of herself, what might it not lead to, pray?
She was through her supper so soon that Mistress Brace again said, tartly:
"If you take not time to eat your victuals, seeing you are let off after supper, it is to the table you will stay until the rest of us are through."
Sally thought to herself, "I will tarry longer at the table to-morrow night," but now, off she flew, and in a trice was through the hedge, on the stones, and peeping with great care at a wonderful table, such as she had never dreamed of in her brightest of fancies.
The long board gleamed with shining, spotless linen. Glass and silver dishes covered the table. Sprays of green, and bright, choice flowers lay around, and in between the plates and glasses, with charming color and taste.
Corniel, in white clothes, with several colored girls about him, who were to assist in waiting, was flourishing about, placing food at proper spaces, setting chairs, and giving orders in a pompous way Sally thought he must enjoy.
Mammy Leezer's cookery was indeed most beautiful to look upon. The porcupine marmalade, on two separate platters of white china ware edged with gilt, was a thick jam made from plums or prunes, then turned out from long oval moulds, and stuck all over with small spikes of cocoanut meat, standing straight and stiff, looking in very truth like the quills of the little animal called the porcupine.
The melon puff was a splendid-looking mass, heaped high in a tall glass dish, and appearing as if made from strained melon pulp, and the whipped whites of eggs with powdered sugar.
The peach tart was a form of pie with golden-looking sauce peeping up between crisscross strips of rich puff paste. And pandowdy with sorghum foam had the look, in a deep glass dish, of being apple sauce and pie-crust mixed, with a delicious pyramid of golden-colored whipped sugar standing in a point on the top.
Chicken salad, in other long white and gilt platters, was beautifully ornamented with white and yellow rings of hard-boiled eggs, having sprigs of green run through the rings in a way to form fancy garlands above the crisp whitey-green bordering of lettuce leaves.
"Oh, it is the food of the Fairies! It is the food of the gods!"
Sally whispered in soft delight to herself, not noticing or scarcely knowing what she was saying. All her soul was steeped in wonder at the fine, the beautifully fine, things spread before her.
"But they are not for me," she sighed. "Oh, no, never can they be for me!"
"Why not?" asked the cheery voice thatSally was beginning to listen for, and to like much to hear.
"I'm so poor," answered Sally, with the usual downward look at frock, hands, and feet.
"Lift yourself up," said the voice, that seemed ever determined to help and comfort poor Sally.
"I will try," she replied. Then, in a sparkling, sunshiny way, she said to herself:
"Oh, you shall be my good Fairy, you new voice! Why not! I will call you the Fairy whenever you speak."
"Very well, then. You can call me the good Fairy, and Master Lionel can be your Fairy Prince."
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" gasped Sally. "How dreadful! How ever can I dare!"
She almost tumbled from her perch, so great appeared her presumption in allowing the thought of coming so near to the Fairy Prince even in imagination.
But the hopeful voice was talking again:
"Do not put yourself down all the time; theremay be no reason why you should not rise,if you will!"
Sally sat down and began thinking in half wonder. "Now what, oh, what, makes me to have thoughts like that?" she asked, in perplexity. "Are there very truly two Sallys inside my skin?"
She was too much in earnest to laugh as she went on: "All is, if there be, we must help each other. Thankful should I be to rise in the world, and great, great joy would it be if some good Fairy could come and live with me, helping me to rise. Listen, listen will I for your voice, good Fairy, and run wherever you send, and do whatever you bid."
Then Sally heard many voices, and the rustle of silken garments, and she knew that a soft swish of fine muslins and delicately shod feet were coming over the lawn.
She dared one peep at the gay company. There was Corniel, in all his glory, viewing the table he had spread so finely, and Sam Spruce, with a high head and knowing air, directing thewaiters by signs and nods. The company was a mixed show of splendid coats, gowns, and shimmering laces, but the peep was a short one, and Sally was seated again.
A great chattering, mixed with joyous laughter, floated across the wall, but a "mocker," the lovely mocking-bird of the South, mingled his notes with it all, and Sally could hear nothing distinctly in the pleasant confusion.
Then the charming bird-notes hushed, as some one asked plainly a question of the Fairy Prince.
"To which university do you go, Master Lionel, to Oxford or to Cambridge?"
"I hie me to England in the early fall, to be tutored a year for Oxford. It is to the older university I would go."
"And how old may Oxford be?" asked a young voice.
"It was founded by Alfred the Great, 'way back in the ninth century, 872," came in the firm, assured voice of the Fairy Prince.
"And Cambridge?" asked some one else.
"In 1257," came the quick reply.
"And you go in theBelle Virgeen?"
"In theBelle Virgeen, most surely."
"What will be the whole course?" was the next question.
"Five years if I finish. Affairs may be such as to prevent my finishing."
"Oh! Ah! Indeed!" cried a voice of mock surprise. "Five years to fit a lad, who already hath somewhat in his noddle, to do a man's work?"
"And but twenty-one will I be then," answered the Fairy Prince. "Youth is the time for study."
"And is so very much learning needed?" asked a womanish voice which yet was a man's, "for the young gentleman who will have lands and servants of his own whenever he wants them?"
"No man can properly care for houses, lands, or servants, who hath not a fair stock of the right kind of learning," said Lionel, stoutly. "Besides," he added, "they say that there aretroublous times ahead in our fine new country, and one must have a clear understanding of history, laws, and rules of government in order to act wisely. The colonists may have to act with great decision before long, and a man should be equipped 'to follow the right side.'"
"And well prepared you will be, lad, when that time comes!" cried the hearty voice of Captain Rothwell.
The foppish voice asked again, in tones that all at the table could not hear, nor could Sally have heard only that the young man was seated close by the wall:
"And what will comfort the sister and our fair Lady Rosamond, meantime? Eh? eh? eh? And our fair Lady Rosamond, prithee?"
"There will be homeward trips in the summer," Lionel replied; "no one will need forget me."
"Well, maids must weep when swains desert," lisped the silly young man, whom no one answered.
Then the mocker trilled again, the talk becameconfused, coming in fragments across the wall. But Sally's eyes were big with a kind of sorrow, and there had come a fast rising and falling at the bosom of her faded little gown.
"He is going away!" she sighed. "My Fairy Prince is going away. The fall will come soon, and away will he go to make the difference between us greater still. Ah! ah! why did the fine voice arise within me, only to show the great distance that lieth between the rich and the poor, those who can learn, and those who know naught?"
"Oh, be quiet, child, and cease repining," cried the good Fairy. "Bestir yourself! Watch your Fairy Prince while you may, as it comforts you, and when he goeth forth to study, go you forth also, and seek out ways to learn yourself. There lieth five years between your age and that of the Fairy Prince, feel you not within your heart that very much might be learned in five years if with a strong will you do your best for Maid Sally?"
"The will is strong enough," whispered Sally,"the will is not wanting, but the way, dear Fairy, who will show me the way?"
"Watch!" cried the Fairy. "Keep the will, and watch for the way. It will come! Did not the Fairy Prince himself say so? There is a mind within you. Stir it up! Jump over hindrances, Sally Dukeen, and find for yourself a way. It isthere!"
"I will do my best to obey thee, dear Fairy," said poor little Sally.
But down deep in her "heart-place," a pain was tugging, a new pain she did not in the least understand.
A foppish voice kept sounding in her ears: "Eh? eh? eh? And our fair Lady Rosamond, prithee?"
Sally knew all about the braveBelle Virgeen. In those days the Virginia gentleman was not only lord of his house and lands, but up the river came the vessels that bore the tobacco straight from his fields or sheds to far distant shores.
The black men planted, cut, and packed tobacco, then acted as porters in carrying it to the vessels. And Sir Percival owned a part of theBelle Virgeen, which twice a year came back from the old country, laden with silks, woollens, laces, ribbons, stockings, and many other things which had been sent for by a few Southern traders.
Many a time had the child watched the lading and the unlading of theBelle Virgeen,and, indeed, half the town was likely to be on hand watching the ship go and come.
But for some reason Sally always kept out of sight when the people from the great house were around. And if the Fairy Prince had ever seen her, it would have been such a mere glimpse he had obtained that he surely would never have known her again.
Now in three months more,Belle Virgeenwould spread her sails, and away she would glide to another part of the world, and with her would go the Fairy Prince. Then the weak voice mocked her again:
"Eh? eh? eh? And our fair Lady Rosamond, prithee?"
"The Lady Rosamond has money and beauty, friends, fine clothes, and many things to please her," grieved Sally, "what need has she of the Fairy Prince for company? She can read books, ride in the family coach, sit at a fine table; but when the vessel sails away, what other comfort will I find with his voice gone from the arbor, and in all Ingleside I can find him not?"
"There is work to do, learning to get, many things to seek after," cried her good Fairy. "Up and away! Be ashamed to brood and sorrow over what you cannot help. There is much good to be found if you will but search for it."
"Is there?" asked Sally, her eyes no longer drooping, but opening wide.
"Prithee, why not?" questioned the Fairy. "How oft must I tell thee?"
A few nights after this, when July had come, and the black people, bare-footed, bare-armed, dressed in but one or two cotton garments, went sluggishly about their work, when gauzy-winged creatures droned midst clumps of sweet flowers and heavy garden scents, when rich blossoms hung in trailing abundance and the paths were carpeted with wild flowers, when birds sang far into the twilight, Maid Sally more slowly than usual went over to her rocky seat.
Some one was asleep in the arbor, for she could hear the hard breathing of one in slumber. Then a book fell to the floor. Soon there wasa turning of leaves, and soon again some one else entered the arbor.
"Ah, Rosamond," began a voice well known, "had you come a moment sooner, a drowsy lord you would have found."
"Beshrew the idea of a lord of sixteen!" cried Rosamond, pettishly. "Where is the sense in leaving home and sailing away to another land to study what could be very well learned right here, and the better to look into troubles that may never come?"
"I must fit myself in the very best way for the future," manfully answered the lad.
"And prithee, are there not fields to till, crops to watch, and hands to guide, that one must fly across the ocean in search of usefulness?"
"My father is able to look after his fields, his crops, and his servants, cousin Rosamond, and it was a fine course of study that fitted him to be the man he is. And thankful I am that he hath both means and the willingness wherewith to fit me to follow in his footsteps."
"We have had many pleasant times together," sighed Rosamond.
"As boy and girl, yes. I go now to prepare myself to take a man's place in affairs, would'st hinder me?"
"Yes!" snapped Rosamond. "I would indeed!"
She was a petted beauty, this Rosamond, and being seventeen was both much admired and sought after.
"Yes," she repeated, "I would hinder you from such folly! You have been well taught already. Here is our own William and Mary College, no mean place of learning; why is it not fully good enough, pray tell me?"
"I seek helps of all kinds, my cousin, and would study midst the treasures and libraries of the Old World, nor can any one hinder me."
"Then will I turn my thoughts another way," said Rosamond, "and that will not please your mother."
There was no reply.
"What say you to that?" asked the haughty beauty.
"It is my desire to think chiefly at present of the study on which my heart is set," was the sensible reply; "but," Lionel added, more hotly, "I want to follow the course I have marked out, and I will!"
There was ever something about the warm air of the South that made her sons impetuous in speech, yet they were also chivalrous, gentle to the weak, and kind and courteous in speech.
So when Rosamond began to cry and to say, "What need to be so harsh with a poor little cousin who meant no harm?" Lionel exclaimed:
"Forgive me, Rosamond, I meant not to be unkind. But I feel within me the need of preparation such as is before me. Yet I would not be too hasty in speech. I pray you, forgive me, dear."
"Ah, how sweet is the spirit of my Fairy Prince," smiled Sally. "Who would not love so gentle a voice, and one who so quickly says 'forgive'?"
Then she looked around with the scared expression always quick to come over her face whenever she dared to say or to think, "My Fairy Prince."
Nearly every evening after this, Sally would hover near the arbor, but so warm was the weather that the young people would go in the family coach for long drives, while Sir Percival and Lady Gabrielle would start away in the shay, taking their slower way through sweet, grassy roads, along by the quiet dingle and flowery dell.
Then off would roam Sally, perhaps loitering around fair Ingleside, or returning to her beloved pine woods and leafy oak-tree.
One evening, as Sally was returning through Lover's Lane, she saw Mammy Leezer coming toward her, and very glad she was to meet the good-looking old colored woman. Mammy came on with her usual slow step, and said, as Sally drew near:
"Hot, isn't it, honey?"
"Yes, it is hot," Sally made answer, "butthis is a pretty evening for those who can go riding."
Mammy tossed her independent old head.
"Neber you fret 'bout dose as hev kerridges to tote 'em," she said. "You's jus' as good as some folkses dat rides all de time."
"Oh, but it is nice to be born to fine things," said Sally, with a little laugh.
"How'd you know what you's borned to?" asked Mammy, with another toss of her head. "You doan't b'long to dat Slipside Row no more'n nothin'. I've heah tell o' your pappy. If he had done live' you'd be gettin' learnin' all dis time, shor! You oughten be gettin' it now."
Mammy had sunk down on a low stump and took on an air of importance that covered her like unto a garment. And as no class of people enjoy telling a story or airing their ideas more than do the colored race, Mammy settled herself as if for a long speech, and began, feeling all the time much pleased at Sally's attention:
"Now, ob course, I ain't for sayin' one word 'gainst my marster or mistis, not by no means.Why, bress yo' young soul, I'se been part ob de fambly most eber since Mars' Perc'val and Mistis Gabrelle wor married. And I nussed Miss 'Cretia right f'om de day she wor borned, and as for Mars' Lion, he's my babby shor!
"Law de deah sakes! dat lil scamp neber would let me out'n he sight till he wor four yeah ole, and to dis berry day dat chile come to his ole Mammy with his troubles."
Sally listened enchanted. Here were bits of family history such as she had never for a moment expected to hear. She said, timidly:
"I do not see how a fine young gentleman can have troubles."
"Well, he do," said Mammy. "Now, fo' instance,—there's dat Miss Ros'mond Earlscourt, she's got heaps ob money, and her face looks berry well, too. And dese yere old famblies o' Virginny, they likes to keep to demselves and marry and gib in marriage to one anudder 'cause there's heaps o' fambly pride to 'em. Dat's all right, ob course, but let me tell you, honey, I can see plain as day dat my Mars'Lion he ain't goin' fo' to bind himse'f to no cousin or ennybody else till he wants to. Dat Ros'mond, she a yeah ol'er dan Mars' Lion, and boys mostly falls in love with girls ol'er than they are, when they's in bibs,someob them does.
"And my mistis,"—Mammy whispered and rolled her eyes,—"she want dat chile to make right up to Ros'mond, but he jus' won't do it! And he tell his ole Mammy dat he goin' to hab his own way 'bout some tings if de skies fall."
Then Mammy dropped her dreadful story-telling air as she said, in her own sweet voice:
"Now, honey, I doan't expeck you'll eber tell a word o' what I'se been sayin'! I mostly doan't tell fambly affairs, but you looked so sweet with yo' reddy-gold hair, and dem holes in yo' cheeks, I was led on to speak ob mine fo' once. Yo' won't be tellin, will you, missy?"
"No, oh, no!" said Sally, "I wouldn't for the world!"
"Dat's my kitten!" said Mammy, so caressingly that Sally smiled for very joy. And, indeed, it appeared to her so pleasant a thing that the old nurse of her Fairy Prince should have trusted her with a bit of family matters that it would have been hard to give away a word that Mammy had said.
"Now I'll tote 'long," said Mammy, making lunges toward getting up from the stump, "and I ain't meant to say a word I hadn't orter, but my ole heart's berry sore 'cause my young Mars' Lion, he goin' fur away come Septem'er, and no knowin' when I'll eber see my babby 'gain."
Mammy should not have told family matters, and Sally should not have listened, but both were innocent as to some things, and no harm was done.
Sally kept on to the pine grove, going over in her mind what she had heard. But she thought most of what Mammy had asked about herself, and what she had said about her father. She repeated in her own way of speaking:
"How do you know what you were born to? You don't belong to Slipside Row. I've heard of your father. If he had lived you would begetting learning all this time. You ought to be getting it now."
Then Sally listened, hoping her good Fairy would have something to say, and at once it began to speak.
"You feel in your heart that what Mammy said may be true. It may bebecauseyour father was a gentleman and your mother a lady that you begin to want to study and to learn as they would have wished you to. Look around. Do not give up. Be determined to see a way to lift yourself. You can find the way!"
Sally stood still. "I will help myself," she said, stoutly. "I will! I will!"
"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried, softly, "that is the same thing my Fairy Prince said, 'I will'!"
She whispered, with her small brown hand before her mouth:
"And we were both talking about getting learning!"
August flew by with its sultry air, and the grand house lay warm and quiet until supper time, no one venturing out until the heat of the day was past.
A disappointment it was to Sally that so little time was spent by the young people in the arbor, for it was not easy for her to see or hear them anywhere else.
Then came there a day in September when all the place was stirred as by some great and important event. Captain Rothwell was at the dock or on the deck giving swift orders, the sailors were hurrying to and fro, and the braveBelle Virgeenstood ready winged for sailing.
Sally a little while before had begged of Mistress Brace a piece of gray and white print, outof which, being exceeding deft with her needle, she had made for herself a neat gown.
Then the hired men had each agreed to pay her a few pence if every week she would darn their stockings. And the darns were indeed of surprising neatness for a little maid of but eleven years of age.
Sally could buy no stockings as yet with her earnings, but a cheap pair of shoes she already had bought, and on the sweet September day, away with the rest she went to see theBelle Virgeenset sail.
Very hard she strained her eyes to get a glimpse of her Fairy Prince, and her poor little heart was aching at thought of his crossing the great lonely ocean to remain nearly a year away.
"Oh, a year doth seem such a very long while," she murmured, "and although I should be ready to die of shame did any one know it, yet great comfort and company hath it been for me to dream and imagine about the Fairy Prince."
So much was there going on, and so great the bustle, that not much thought could fill her mind, and soon there came an extra stir, a carriage drove along the road, a lithe young form sprang out, and midst a cheer from the "hands" that crowded the landing, Lionel Grandison went up the gangplank.
Then came the signal from Captain Rothwell to draw in the hawsers, and let the trim vessel glide.
Yes, there were Sir Percival Grandison, young Mistress Lucretia, and Mistress Rosamond Earlscourt, all waving their kerchiefs, and smiling bravely at the young student, who held his sea-cap high above his head, waving it constantly.
Lady Gabrielle had not come to see him sail away. Like unto other mothers at such times, she had not wished to see the lad depart.
On the edge of the crowd stood Sally. Still farther back she went, and not much notice did she take that she was standing near a great wagon that had brought some luggage to the dock, until all at once, from around the otherside, she heard a musical voice half sobbing out a prayer:
"O Lorr Gord, do keep de chile f'om all de dangers ob de mighty deep! Doan't let de waves nor de billows be swallerin' ob him up. Keep my babby safe f'om all de mis'ries ob a forr'n land. Dese yere arms has held him troo all kiner sickernesses. Deah Lorr, keep my chile safe—Yah! yah! yah!"
It was Mammy Leezer, who, without stopping to end her prayer in proper shape, had suddenly joined the cheer that went up as the vessel dropped slowly down the stream.
Very still it grew again as theBelle Virgeendrifted off and away, until in the distance the staunch ship grew small, and the figure of a boy standing straight and tall looked like a mere point against the sky.
Sallie's breast heaved and tears filled her eyes.
"Farewell, O Fairy Prince," she sighed, "farewell! I hate to see thee go. I hope to see thee back some day, my Fairy Prince, andah, what joy would it be, if, without shame, I might sometime meet thee face to face."
"Then away and prepare," cried her Fairy, and without stopping to look back, or even to say a word to Mammy Leezer, Sally went swiftly to the pine woods and began talking to herself again.
"Now one thing am I bound to do. It will be hard to see the way, but—I am going to a dame school!
"Mistress Maria Kent has long had pupils, and a likely teacher she must be. School goes in this day week. I mean to be there! But how? I know not, yet some way will I find to learn."
That night Sally lay long awake. How busy was her mind! How many ways she tried to plan! At length she exclaimed:
"I have it! I have it! That will I do. If Mistress Cory Ann makes a noise about it,—and I greatly fear me she will,—then must I put on bravery and tell her, with seemly respect, but with a good show of will, thatlearning I want and that learning I must have."
The next afternoon, as soon as she was through her supper, Sally made herself both neat and pretty in appearance. Her hair was now all the time made to look almost smooth, the gray and white print with a red rose for a breastpin was well brightened up. The decent shoes were on her feet.
She slipped away without being seen by the sharp eyes of Mistress Cory Ann, for she felt that her looks would not be pleasing to her. More than once had Mistress Brace spoken smartly of her smoother hair, and she had not liked the buying of the shoes.
Now, should she see Sally gliding away, the new dress on, a rose for ornament, and with shoes on, she would demand being told at once whither she was bound.
Mistress Maria Kent was sitting on the porch at her pretty little home, the picture of an old-time schoolmistress. Her hair was parted witha precision that could not have been increased, and it was brought smoothly down on either side, where it was rounded just in front of her ears, a little hard quirl being carried over her ears and pinned closely to her back hair.
Her long-waisted dress of blue cambric was of a Puritan plainness, while the deeply wrought collar lying flat around her neck was fastened with a round breastpin that had hair curiously plaited in the centre, surrounded by black and white enamel, and all framed in gold.
She lifted her eyes from the book she was reading to see a spare little figure coming up the garden walk.
"Good evening, little maid," she said pleasantly, "was there something you wished to say to me?"