“I know’d how ’twould be,” she said, “wen marster fotch her hyear; she got too much white in her eye to suit me, er shettin’ my chile up, an’ er starvin’ uv her; I an’t got no ’pinion uv po’ white folks, nohow.” “Is Miss Carrie po’ white folks, Mammy?” asked Dumps, in horror, for she had been taught by Mammy and Aunt Milly both that the lowest classes of persons in the world were “po’ white folks” and “free niggers.” “She ain’t no _rich_ white folks,” answered Mammy, evasively; “caze efn she wuz, she wouldn’t be teachin’ school fur er livin’; an’ den ergin, efn she’s so mighty rich, whar’s her niggers? I neber seed ’em. An’, let erlone dat, I ain’t neber hyeard uv ’em yit;” for Mammy could not conceive of a person’s being rich without niggers. “But, wedder she’s rich or po’,” continued the old lady, “she ain’t no bizness er shettin’ up my chile; an’ marster he oughtn’t ter ’low it.” And Mammy resumed her work, but all the time grumbling, and muttering something about “ole maids” and “po’ white folks.” “I don’t like her, nohow,” said Dumps, “an’ I’m glad me an’ Tot’s too little ter go ter school; I don’t want never to learn to read all my life. An’, Mammy, can’t you go an’ turn Diddie erloose?” “No, I can’t,” answered Mammy. “Yer pa don’t ’low me fur ter do it; he won’t do it hisse’f, an’ he won’t let dem do it wat wants ter. I dunno wat’s gittin’ in ’im myse’f. But, you chil’en, put on yer bunnits, an’ run an’ play in de yard tell I fixes dis chis’ uv cloes; an’ you little niggers, go wid ’em, an’ tuck cyar uv ’em; an’ ef dem chil’en git hut, yer’ll be sorry fur it, mun; so yer’d better keep em off’n seesaws an’ all sich ez dat.” Dumps and Tot, attended by their little maids, went out in the yard at Mammy’s bidding, but not to play; their hearts were too heavy about poor little Diddie, and the little negroes were no less grieved than they were, so they all held a consultation as to what they should do. “Le’s go ’roun’ ter de schoolroom winder, an’ talk ter her,” said Dilsey. And accordingly, repaired to the back of the house, and took their stand under the schoolroom window. The schoolroom was on the first floor, but the house was raised some distance from the ground by means of stone pillars, so none of the children were tall enough to see into the room. Dilsey called Diddie softly, and the little girl appeared at the window. “Have you said your lesson yet?” asked Dumps. “No, an’ I ain’t ergoin’ to, neither,” answered Diddie. “An’ yer ain’t had yer dinner, nuther, is yer, Miss Diddie?” asked Dilsey. “No; but I don’t care ’bout that; I sha’n’t say my lesson not ef she starves me clean ter death.”