The next day we were to scatter, and it was imperative that some
disposition should be made of Mammy. The old lady--for old we deemed her,
though she could scarcely have been fifty--went calmly about the house
looking to the packing of the thousand and one things, and not only
looking, but using her tongue in language expressing utter contempt for all
"lazy niggers" of these degenerate days--referring to the temporary "help."
The eldest sister was deputed to approach and sound Mammy on the momentous
question.
The deputy went on her mission in fear and trembling. The interview was
easily contrived in the adjoining room.
We were exceedingly embarrassed when we discovered that Mammy's part of the
dialogue was perfectly audible. As for the sister's, her voice could be
barely heard. So that the effect to the unwilling eavesdropper was that
which we are familiar with in these days of hearing a conversation at the
telephone.
"Don't you bother yo'self 'bout me, Miss Frances."
Interval.
"No, marm. I'd ruther stay right here in dis town whar ev'body knows me.
Doan yawl study 'bout me."
Several bars' rest, apparently.
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