‚ÄúGo ‚Äôlong now‚ÅÝ‚Äîhit ain‚Äôt a thing.‚Äù
Then came a pause, the old woman sliding into the proffered seat, while over her genial, dimpled smile there dropped a dull veil of care. Her eyes shifted uneasily. Miss Smith tried not to notice the change.
“Well, are you all moved, Aunt Rachel?” she inquired cheerfully.
“No’m, and we ain’t gwine to move.”
“But I thought it was all arranged.”
“It was,” gloomily, “but de ole Cunnel, he won’t let us go.”
The listener was instantly sympathetic. “Why not?” she asked.
“He says we owes him.”
“But didn’t you settle at Christmas?”
“Yas’m; but when he found we was goin’ away, he looked up some more debts.”
“How much?”
‚ÄúI don‚Äôt know ‚Äôzactly‚ÅÝ‚Äîmore‚Äôn a hundred dollars. Den de boys done got in dat trouble, and he paid their fines.‚Äù
“What was the trouble?”
“Well, one was a-gambling, and the other struck the overseer what was a-whippin’ him.”
‚ÄúWhipping him!‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîin horrified exclamation, quite as much at Aunt Rachel‚Äôs matter-of-fact way of regarding the matter as at the deed itself.