"So she's bounteously baptized--yas, sir. I reasoned it out dat ef dey's only one _true_ baptism, an' I war n't to say _shore_ which one it was, I better git 'em all, an' only de _onlies'_ true one would _count_; an' den ag'in, ef all honest baptisms is good, den de mo' de merrier, as de Book say. Of co'se I knowed pyore rain-water sprinkled on wid a blessin' couldn't hurt no chile. "You see, when one side de house is _French distraction_ an' de yether is _English to-scent_, an' dey's a dozen side-nations wid _blood to tell_ in all de branches,--well, hit minds me o' dis _ba'm of a thousan' flowers_ dat ole Mis' used to think so much of. Hits hard to 'stinguish out any one flagrams. "But talkin' about de baby, she ain't been deprived, no mo' 'n de Lord deprived her, for a season, of her rights to high livin' an'--an' aristoc'acy--an'--an' petigree, an' posterity, an' all sech as dat. "An'-- "What dat you say, Mars' Harol'? What _name_ is we--' "We ain't dast to give 'er no name, Baby, no mo' 'n jes Blossom. I got 'er wrote down in five citi_fic_ates 'Miss Blossom,' jes so. No, sir. I knows my colored place, an' I'll go so far, an' dat's all de further. She was jes as much a blossom befo' she was christened as she was arterwards, so my namin' 'er don't count. I was 'mos' tempted to call out 'Agnes' to de preachers, when dey'd look to me for a name, seem' it was her right--like as ef she was borned to it; but--I ain't nuver imposed on her. No, sir, we ain't imposed on her noways. "De on'iest wrong I ever done her--an' Gord knows I done it to save her to my arms, an' for you, marster--de on'iest wrong was to let her go widout her little sunbonnet an' git her skin browned up so maybe nobody wouldn't s'picion she was clair white an' like as not try to wrest her from me. An' _one_ time, when a uppish yo'ng man ast me her name, I said it straight, but I see him look mighty cu'yus, an' I spoke up an' say, 'What other name you 'spect' her to have? My name is Hannah Le Duc, an' I's dat child's daddy's mammy.' Excuse me, Mars' Harold, but you know I _is_ yo' _black_ mammy--_an' I was in so'e straits_. "So de yo'ng man, well, he didn't seem to have no raisin'. He jes sort o' whistled, an' say I sho is got one mighty blon' gran'chil'--an' I 'spon', 'Yas, sir; so it seems.' "An' dat's de on'ies' wrong I ever done her. She sets up at her little dinner-table sot wid a table-cloth an' a white napkin,--an' I done buyed her a ginuine silver-plated napkin-ring to hold it in, too,--an' she says her own little blessin'--dat short 'Grace o' Gord--material binefets,' one o' Miss Aggie's; I learned it to her. No, she ain't been handled keerless, ef she is been livin' on de outside o' de levee, like free niggers. But we ain't to say _lived_ here, 'not perzackly, marster. We jes been waitin' along, _so_, dese five years--waitin' for to-night. "I ain't nuver sorted her clo'es out into no bureau; I keeps 'em all in her little trunk, perpared to move along."