United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
The appearance of some nice red apples just then turned the attention of
the little company in another channel and before they were aware of it the
clock struck ten. Mr. Middleton had not returned and as it was doubtful
whether he came at all that night, Julia went into the kitchen for Luce,
to show Mr. Wilmot to his room. She was gone some time, and when she
returned was accompanied by a bright-looking mulatto girl, who, as soon as
she had conducted Mr. Wilmot into his room, commenced making excuses about
"marster’s old house! Things was drefful all round it, but ’twasn’t Miss
Julia’s fault, for if she could have her way ’twould be fixed up, sartin.
She was a born’d lady, anybody could see; so different from Miss Fanny,
who cared nothing how things looked if she could go into the kitchen and
turn hoe cakes for Aunt Judy, or tend the baby!"
By this time Luce had arranged the room all it wanted arranging, and as
Mr. Wilmot had no further need of her services, she left him to think of
what she had said. He did not know that the bright red ribbon, which
appeared on Luce’s neck next morning, was the gift of Julia, who had
bribed her to say what she did to him. Julia knew that she had made a
favorable impression on Mr. Wilmot by making him think meanly of Fanny.
What Luce said had its effect upon him, too. He was accustomed to the
refinements of the North and he could not help respecting a young lady
more who showed a taste for neatness. That night he dreamed that a bright
pair of dark eves were looking at him from each pane of shingle in the
window, and that a golden-haired fairy was dancing the Polka in Aunt
Judy’s hoe cake batter.
CHAPTER II
GETTING UP A SUBSCRIPTION SCHOOL
Next morning before daybreak Mr. Wilmot was aroused from a sound slumber
by what he thought was the worst noise he had ever heard. He instantly
concluded that the house was on fire, and springing up, endeavored to find
his clothes, but in the deep darkness of the room such a thing was
impossible; so he waited a while and tried to find out what the noise
could be.
At last it assumed something of a definite form, and he found it was the
voice of a man calling out in thunder-like tones, "Ho, Jebediah! Come out
with ye! Do you hear? Are you coming?"
Then followed a long catalogue of names, such as Sam, Joe, Jack, Jim, Ike,
Jerry, Nehemiah, Ezariah, Judy, Tilda, Martha, Rachel, Luce and Phema, and
at the end of each name was the same list of questions which had preceded
that of Jebediah; and ever from the negro quarters came the same response,
"Yes, marster, comin’."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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