Miss Minerva and William Green HillCalhoun, Frances Boyd
General
Miss Minerva and William Green Hill
Calhoun, Frances Boyd
Aunts -- Fiction; Southern States -- Fiction
“Yes,” said Miss Minerva; “I shall be very strict with him just at
first, and punish him for the slightest disobedience or misdemeanor, and
he will soon learn that my authority is not to be questioned.”
And the little boy who had never had a restraining hand laid upon him
in his short life? He slept sweetly and innocently in the next room
dreaming of the care-free existence on the plantation and of his idle,
happy, negro companions.
CHAPTER III
THE WILLING WORKER
“Get up, William,” said Miss Minerva, “and come with me to the
bath-room; I have fixed your bath.”
The child's sleepy eyes popped wide open at this astounding command.
“Ain't this-here Wednesday?” he asked sharply.
“Yes; to-day is Wednesday. Hurry up or your water will get cold.”
“Well, me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln jest washed las' Sat'day. We ain't
got to wash no mo' till nex' Sat'day,” he argued.
“Oh, yes,” said his relative; “you must bathe every day.”
“Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln ain't never wash on a Wednesday sence we's
born,” he protested indignantly.
Billy's idea of a bath was taken from the severe weekly scrubbing which
Aunt Cindy gave him with a hard washrag, and he felt that he'd rather
die at once than have to bathe every day.
He followed his aunt dolefully to the bath-room at the end of the long
back-porch of the old-fashioned, one-story house; but once in the big
white tub he was delighted.
In fact he stayed in it so long Miss Minerva had to knock on the door
and tell him to hurry up and get ready for breakfast.
“Say,” he yelled out to her, “I likes this here; it's mos' as fine as
Johnny's Wash Hole where me and' Wilkes Booth Lincoln goes in swimmin'
ever sence we's born.”
When he came into the dining-room he was a sight to gladden even a prim
old maid's heart. The water had curled his hair into riotous yellow
ringlets, his bright eyes gleamed, his beautiful, expressive little face
shone happily, and every movement of his agile, lithe figure was grace
itself.
“I sho' is hongry,” he remarked, as he took his seat at the breakfast
table.
Miss Minerva realized that now was the time to begin her small nephew's
training; if she was ever to teach him to speak correctly she must begin
at once.
“William,” she said sternly, “you must not talk so much like a negro.
Instead of saying 'I sho' is hongry,' you should say, 'I am very
hungry.' Listen to me and try to speak more correctly.”
“Don't! don't!” she screamed as he helped himself to the meat and gravy,
leaving a little brown river on her fresh white tablecloth. “Wait until
I ask a blessing; then I will help you to what you want.”
Billy enjoyed his breakfast very much. “These muffins sho' is--” he
began; catching his aunt's eye he corrected himself--
“These muffins am very good.”
“These muffins are very good,” said Miss Minerva patiently.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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