Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; New England -- Fiction; Villages -- Fiction
"'Be you a lady?' says I. Lord knows what kind of notion I had; children
don't always know what they are saying.
"'I am the Queen of the Cannibal Islands!' says she.
"I never misdoubted but what she was, and I didn't know what Cannibal
Islands meant.
"'What's your name?' says I.
"'I'll tell you what my husband's name is,' says she. 'His name is
"'Chingy Fungy Wong,
Putta-potee da Kubbala Kong,
Flipperty Flapperty Busky Bong,
The King of the Cannibal Islands.'
"Then she went into the house, and I stood starin' after her with my
mouth gappin' open. She didn't stay long, and, when she came out again,
up I jumps without waitin' to be told. She looks at me ag'in, that quick
way she had, like a bird. 'Finished your pie?' says she.
"'Yes'm,' says I.
"'Is it a good pie?' says she.
"'I guess so!' says I.
"'I'll buy it,' says she. 'Here's the money!' and she gives me a bright
new ten-cent piece,--it was the first ever I had in my life,--and walked
off quick and light before ever I could say a word. Well, now, sirs, if
children ain't cur'us things! I was a slow child most ways,--ben slow
all my life long, but it come over me then quick as winkin', she had
paid for that pie, and it was hers, and she'd got to have it. I never
said a word, but just toddled after down street, holdin' that mud pie as
if it was Thanksgivin' mince. I couldn't catch up with her; she walked
almighty fast them days, and my legs were short, but I kep' her red
shawl in sight, and I see where she went in. Time I got up to the door
it was shut, but I banged on it in good shape, and D'reckshy Hawkes come
and opened it. She was allus sharp, D'reckshy was, and she couldn't
abide no boys but her two, as she called 'em, Arthur and Willy, and they
weren't neither one of 'em born then.
"'What do you want, boy?' she says, sharp enough.
"'I don't want nothin'!' says I. 'I brung the pie.'
"'What pie?' says she.
"'Her'n,' says I. 'She bought it off'n me; her that went in just now,
with the red shawl.'
"D'reckshy looked me over, and looked at the pie. I make no doubt but
she was just goin' to send me about my business, but before she could
speak I heard Mis' Tree's voice. She had seen me from the window, I
expect.
"'D'reckshy Hawkes,' she says, 'take that pie into the pantry and send
the child to me.'
"'My sakes, Mis' Tree!' said D'reckshy, 'it ain't a pie; it's a _mud_
pie!'
"'Do as I tell you!' says Mis' Tree, and D'reckshy went; but she give me
a shove toward the parlor door, and there I see Mis' Tree sittin' in her
chair. That was the first time. Well, sirs, we are all perishable
clay."
Another silence fell; the pensive pipes puffed; the keen eyes scanned
the prospect.
"Looks as if 'twas tryin' to git up some kind o' weather out there!"
said Seth Weaver.
"Doos so!" responded Ebenezer Hoppin. "It's ben tryin' two-three days,
but it don't seem to have no pertickler _suc_cess."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account