“Well, Sally, I’m in fault, and I acknowledge it; I’ve been remiss; but I won’t let tomorrow go by without stopping up them holes.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t hurry; next year’ll do. Matilda Angelina Araminta Phelps !”
Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the sugar-bowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman steps on to the passage, and says:
“Missus, dey’s a sheet gone.”
“A sheet gone! Well, for the land’s sake!”
“I’ll stop up them holes today,” says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful.
“Oh, do shet up!—s’pose the rats took the sheet ? Where’s it gone, Lize?”
“Clah to goodness I hain’t no notion, Miss’ Sally. She wuz on de clo’sline yistiddy, but she done gone: she ain’ dah no mo’ now.”
“I reckon the world is coming to an end. I never see the beat of it in all my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can—”
“Missus,” comes a young yaller wench, “dey’s a brass cannelstick miss’n.”
“Cler out from here, you hussy, er I’ll take a skillet to ye!”
Well, she was just a-biling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned I would sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. She kept a-raging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, and everybody else mighty meek and quiet; and at last Uncle Silas, looking kind of foolish, fishes up that spoon out of his pocket. She stopped, with her mouth open and her hands up; and as for me, I wished I was in Jeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says: