"Law, yes, littler'n you--so little, he couldn't walk by hisself. De firs' time I done lef' him, jes' fur a minute, standin' in de big arm-cheer by de winder, he turn roun' w'en he see I wusn't holdin' on t' him, an' he yelled like forty--" She chuckled proudly, stopped suddenly, and held out timid arms and made a baby face. "'Ow! ow! Efan fall--Efan _bake_!'" She relaxed into smiles again. "Break he meant, yo' see. He'd seen pitchers and china dolls and sich like fallin' and smashin' ter bits, and he wus 'feared dat's wot would happen t' him." She went on chuckling a moment, and then fell unaccountably to weeping. The thunder crashed and the wind blew loud. It lashed the great tulip-tree with fury. Ethan laid his face against the velvet back of the Duchess. Aunt Jerusha wept audibly. Ethan felt rather low in his mind himself. "Where does this door out here lead to?" he said, feeling the need of a diversion. "Unner dem front stehs." "Oh, does it go under the stairs?" "Yes; but don' yo' go dah, honey." "Why not?" "It ain't a berry cheerin' kin' ob a place." "Dirty?" "Spec's so." "I've noticed Venie always _runs_ past that door. It can't be 'cause it's dirty." "No, honey; no." "An' Jerusha, Venie told me yesterday when grandmamma first came here she couldn't get any servants to sleep in this house, and that was why she had to send for Venie." "Don' yo' min' Venus; she's misleadin'." "Well, but I asked Mr. Hall while he was cutting the grass, and he said _he_ wouldn't like to live here, and he looked at the house in such a funny kind o' way." "Huh! yo' mus'n't listen to po' w'ite trash." "Then you'd better tell me, or I'll ask everybody." "No, no, honey. Yo' grandma would be hoppin' mad ef yo' should git dem iggorant pussens t' gabbin' agin." "Then you'd just better tell me, and it'll be a secret, please, An' Jerusha." "Well, dey _do_ say, Massa Efan, dis yer house am hanted." "Hanted? What's that?" Aunt Jerusha rolled her eyes cautiously over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "Got ghos'es." "Under the front stairs?" whispered Ethan, quickly withdrawing from that proximity. Aunt Jerusha nodded. "Did you ever see one?" "Law, yes; oncet or twicet." "What was it like?" "Like de debbil in a night-gown. Hark! Yo' heah dat?" "Yes; oh, what was it?" Ethan was nearer Aunt Jerusha in his alarm than he had ever ventured before. "Dat's de bad ghos' under de stehs. De fust fall we come heah he done groan and _gro-o-an_ like dat all de time. He been mighty still now fur a spell. Hark! yo' heah dat?" Ethan was horribly conscious of a hideous noise somewhere in front of the dining-room. "_I_ think he's in the parlor," he whispered, when he could command his emotions sufficiently for speech. "No, no; I used t' 'spect he was dah, but dat's jus' his being so cute, he didn' want nobody to know he was unner de front stehs. Come into de kitchen, Massa Efan, and I'll gib yo' a cinnamon roll."