"
Sary passed her hand over the lustra design on the shade and Mrs.
Brewster turned to leave the room. Before she closed the door, she
said: "I'm going to start dinner, Sary. When you are ready you can join
me in the kitchen."
The moment the mistress was gone, Sary ran to make sure the door was
securely closed. Then she turned to inspect the belongings of the room.
"Huh! the press ain't so much--plain deal painted brown."
The press was passed by the scornful occupant of the room, and the bed
next came under her appraising eye.
"Th' bed's soft wood, too, but it feels comfertible."
Sary sat on the bed and bounced up and down to test the springs and
mattress before she pulled back the covers to examine the quality of
filling in the ticking.
"Laws! It hain't corn-husks, a-tall! It's soft as down!"
Inborn curiosity compelled her to take a hairpin and rip open a bit of
the seam. To her amazement she pulled out a tangle of long whitish
hair.
"Of all things! And _this_ is what I hev to sleep on!" ejaculated the
insulted maid. "Wall, we'll see about that!"
The sheets and newly patched quilt were designated as "ornery" but the
printed spread, patterned to imitate blue torchon lace, drew a murmur
of admiration from the woman. Sary quickly changed her robe of mourning
to a calico house-dress and went out, determined to speak her mind
about that awful mattress! She never thought such a rich man's house
would have so common a thing as "combin's"--even if it was in the
"help's" tick!
But the wonderful odor of boiling cabbage made her forget her complaint
for the time being.
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