“No, I was not mistaken. I couldn’t have been if I had been possessed of common sense. The chicken coop was in the gooseberry walk, and the old hen was in the coop, poor thing! And the chickies were running in and out. And I took the dear, pretty things up in my hands, and Ducky Darling came up and saw me, and was afraid I was going to hurt them, and that was how I found Ducky Darling, the sweet thing!” Owlet said. At that moment Hera entered the room, courtesied to her mistress, and stood waiting. The woman was short and plump, with a skin as black as that of her child, with features almost as pretty, and an expression almost as pleasing. She was neatly clothed in a dark blue calico dress, a white apron, white neck handkerchief and white turban. She was the wife of Nace, and the mother of five small children, two older and two younger than Dorcas, and with only one year between each child and its successor. “I sent for you, Hera, to take charge of your little one here. She ought not to be allowed around the place at large. It is not safe for her,” said Miss Fronde, speaking very kindly, as she always spoke when obliged to rebuke her servant. “Lor’, Miss Yoma! She wa’n’t yoamin’ at no large. I pit her inside ob de garden gate wid my own han’,” Hera replied, smiling. “But why in the garden?” “’Caze she c’azy arter dem young chicks.” “Ah! this is what I wish to know. Why did you put the chicken coop into the garden?” “To keep the little chicks out’n harm’s way, Miss Yoma. Yo’ know dat ole brack shanky yooster?” “The shanghai, do you mean, Hera?” “Dat’s him. He so unnateral an’ so rawenous, he like to ’a’ gobbled up all dem young chicks. He’d ’a’ done it, too, ef I hadn’t took ’em out’n harm’s way an’ pit ’em into de garden, in de goozebewwy walk, ’tween de peas an’ de beans, whey nobody aine got no call to go dis season ob de yea’, w’en none ob dem fings is fit to yeat,” Hera explained. “Well, I suppose you were right. You know your business best. You may go now,” Roma said. Hera courtesied, and took the hand of little Dorcas to lead her away. “Oh, no! no! Please don’t take her back! Let her stay with me!” pleaded Owlet. “Oh, no, miss. Little colored gals aine comp’ny fo’ little w’ite ladies,” Hera replied, leading her child away. “You are not possessed of common sense! Why ar’n’t they? What do you mean?” indignantly demanded Owlet. “Tell her, Miss Yoma, p’ease, ma’am. She woane min’ me,” said Hera. “I am not myself sure of what I ought to tell her,” said Miss Fronde, with a faint smile. “But, if you have no objection, Hera, you may leave Dorcas for a little while.” “Oh, ’co’se I’s no ’jections, Miss Yoma, on’y I doane wan’ her to bodder yo’. Min’ yo’, Dorky, yo’ ’have yo’se’f fo’ de w’ite ladies, yo’ hear?” “’Es,” said the child. “An’ Miss Yoma, p’ease, ma’am, yo’ sen’ de chile home soon’s ebber yo’ git tired ob her.” “Very well, Hera.” So the mother went out, leaving the child with Owlet.