The
old lady had freed herself of her black cotton gloves, and was rolling them
into a ball. I sighed inwardly, for this was the outward sign of
undeterminable sitting.
Suddenly the self-arranged color scheme struck me as the cool light fell
over Mammy. I seated myself and seized my palette.
"Sit still, Mammy, right where you are. I'm going to paint you."
"Namer Gawd! paint me, Mahs William? After all dem pretty things whar you
kin paint, paint yo' old Mammy?" She slapped herself on the knees, called
the name of the Lord several times, and burst into the heartiest laugh that
I had heard from her for some time.
"Yes, Mammy, just sit right still, and don't talk much, and I won't make
you tired."
I worked frantically, getting in the drawing as surely as I could, then
attacked the face in color. The result was a success that astonished me.
Mammy's evident fatigue stopped me. It was fortunate. I might have painted
more and spoiled my study. I thought that she would go now, but her mission
was not fulfilled. She had come to consult me on an important matter.
"You know this Freedman's Bureau, Mahs William? Well, they tells me--Lawd
knows what they calls it bureau for!--they tells me that of a colored
pusson goes down thar and gives in what he wuz worth--women either, mind
you--that the guv'mint would pay um.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149