Miss Minerva and William Green Hill | Page 2

could hear him cuss on a Sunday jest one time, Aunt Minerva; he'd sho'
make you open yo' eyes an' take in yo' sign. But Aunt Cindy don't 'low
me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln to say nothin' 't all only jest `darn' tell we
gits grown mens, an' puts on long pants."
"Wilkes Booth Lincoln?" questioned his aunt.
"Ain't you never hear teller him?" asked the child. "He's ole Aunt
Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny Pearline's boy; an' Peruny Pearline," he
continued enthusiastically, "she ain't no ord'nary nigger, her hair ain't
got nare kink an' she's got the grandes' clo'es. They ain't nothin' snide
'bout her. She got ten chillens an' ev'y single one of 'em's got a diff'unt
pappy, she been married so much. They do say she got Injun blood in
her, too."
Miss Minerva, who had been standing prim, erect, and stiff, fell limply
into a convenient rocking chair, and looked closely at this orphaned
nephew who had come to live with her.
She saw a beautiful, bright, attractive, little face out of which big, saucy,
grey eyes shaded by long curling black lashes looked winningly at her;
she saw a sweet, childish, red mouth, a mass of short, yellow curls, and

a thin but graceful little figure.
"I knows the names of aller ole Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny
Pearline's chillens," he was saying proudly: "Admiral Farragut Moses
the Prophet Esquire, he's the bigges'; an' Alice Ann Maria Dan
Step-an'-Go-Fetch-It, she had to nuss all the res.'; she say fas' as she git
th'oo nussin' one an' 'low she goin' to have a breathin' spell here come
another one an' she got to nuss it. An' the nex' is Mount Sinai
Tabernicle, he name fer the church where of Aunt BlueGum Tempy's
Peruny Pearline takes her sackerment; an' the nex' is First
Thessalonians; Second Thessalonians, he's dead an' gone to the Bad
Place 'cause he skunt a cat,--I don't mean skin the cat on a actin' role
like me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln does,--he skunt a sho' 'nough cat
what was a black cat, what was a ole witch, an' she come back an' ha'nt
him an' he growed thinner an' thinner an' weasler an' weasler, tell finely
he wan't nothin' 't all but a skel'ton, an' the Bad Man won't 'low nobody
't all to give his parch' tongue no water, an' he got to, ever after amen,
be toast on a pitchfork. An' Oleander Magnolia Althea is the nex'," he
continued, enumerating Peruny Pearline's offspring on his thin, well
molded fingers, "she got the seven year itch; an' Gettysburg, an'
Biddle-&-Brothers-Mercantile-Co.; he name fer the sto' where ole Aunt
Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny Pearline gits credit so she can pay when she
fetches in her cotton in the fall; an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln, him an' me's
twins, we was borned the same day only I's borned to my mama an' he's
borned to his 'n an' Doctor Jenkins fetched me an' Doctor Shacklefoot
fetched him. An' Decimus Ultimus,"--the little boy triumphantly put his
right forefinger on his left little one, thus making the tenth, "she's the
baby an' she's got the colic an' cries loud 'nough to wake up Israel;
Wilkes Booth Lincoln say he wish the little devil would die. Peruny
Pearline firs' name her `Doctor Shacklefoot' 'cause he fetches all her
chillens, but the doctor he say that ain't no name fer a girl, so he name
her Decimus Ultimus."
Miss Minerva, sober, proper, dignified, religious old maid unused to
children, listened in frozen amazement and paralyzed silence. She
decided to put the child to bed at once that she might collect her
thoughts, and lay some plans for the rearing of this sadly neglected,

little orphaned nephew.
"William," she said, "it is bedtime, and I know you must be sleepy after
your long ride on the cars. Would you like something to eat before I put
you to bed? I saved you some supper."
"Naw 'm, I ain't hongry; the Major man what I talk to on the train tuck
me in the dinin'-room an' gimme all I could hol'; I jest eat an' eat tell
they wan't a wrinkle in me," was the reply. "He axed me 'bout you, too.
Is he name' Major Minerva?"
She opened a door in considerable confusion, and they entered a small,
neat room adjoining.
"This is your own little room, William," said she, "you see it opens into
mine. Have you a nightshirt?"
"Naw 'm, I don' need no night-shirt. I jest sleeps in my unions and
sometimes in my overalls."
"Well, you may sleep in your union suit to-night," said his scandalized
relative, "and I'll see what I can do for you to-morrow. Can you undress
yourself?"
Her small nephew wrinkled his nose, disdainfully. "Well, I reckon so,"
he