a loud and angry tone, "Give me some beer!"
Mr. Harewood had previously instructed the servant who waited upon them how to act, in case he was thus addressed; and in consequence of his master's commands, the man took no notice whatever of this claim upon his attention.
"Give me some beer!" cried she again, in so fierce a manner that the boys started, and poor Ellen blushed very deeply, not only from the sense of shame which she felt for the vulgarity of the young lady's manners, but from a kind of terror, on hearing such a shrill and threatening voice.
The servant still took no notice of her words, though he did not do it with an air of defiance, but rather as if it were not addressed to him.
The little angry child muttered, loud enough to be heard--"What a fool the wretch is!" but as nobody answered what was in fact addressed to no one, she was at length compelled to look for redress to Mrs. Harewood, whom, regarding with a mixture of rage and scorn, she now addressed--"Pray, ma'am, why don't you tell the man to give me some beer? I suppose he'll understand you, though he seems a fool, and deaf."
"My children are accustomed to say--'Please, Thomas, give me some beer;' or, 'I'll thank you for a little beer;' and the loud rude manner in which you spoke, probably astonished and confused him. As, however, I certainly understand you, I will endeavour to relieve you.--Pray, Thomas, be so kind as to give Miss Hanson some beer," said Mrs. Harewood.
Thomas instantly offered it; but the little girl cried out in a rage--"I won't have it--no! that I won't, from that man: I'll have my own negro to wait--that I will!--Must I say please to a servant? must a nasty man in a livery be kind to me?--no! no! no! Zebby, Zebby, I say, come here!"
The poor black woman, hearing the loud tones of her young lady, to which she had been pretty well used, instantly ran into the room, before Mr. Harewood had time to prevent it, and very humbly cried out--"What does Missy please wanty?"
"Some beer, you black beetle!"
"Is, Missy," said the poor woman, with a sigh, reaching the beer from Thomas with a trembling hand, as if she expected the glass to be thrown in her face.
Charles had with great difficulty refrained from laughter on the outset of this scene; but indignation now suffused his countenance. The young vixen was an acute observer, and, had she not been cruelly neglected, might have been a sensible child. It instantly struck her, that his features disputed her right; and, determined not to endure this from any one, she instantly threw the beer in the face of poor Zebby, saying--"There's that for you, madam."
It was not in the forbearance of the children to repress their feelings; even Edmund exclaimed--"What a brute!"
Ellen involuntarily started up, and hid her face in her mother's lap, while Charles most good-naturedly offered his handkerchief to the aggrieved Zebby, kindly condoling with her on her misfortune.
Mr. Harewood now, for the first time, spoke.--"Zebby," said he, in a calm but stern tone, "it is my strict command, that so long as you reside under my roof, you never give that young lady any thing again, nor hold any conversation with her: if you disobey my commands, I shall be under the necessity of discharging you."
The young lady checked herself, and for a moment looked alarmed; but recovering, she said--"She is not yours, and you sha'n't discharge her: she is my own slave, and I will do what I please with her; poor papa bought her for me, as soon as I was born, and I'll use her as I please."
"But you know your mamma told you, that as soon as she arrived in England she would be free, and might either return or remain, as she pleased. Now it so happens that she is much pleased with my family, and having a sincere regard for your mother, she this morning requested Mrs. Harewood to engage her in any service she could undertake: convinced that she was worthy our protection, we have done this, and therefore all your claims upon her are over."
The little girl, bursting into a passionate flood of tears, ran out of the room.
Poor Zebby, courtesying, said--"Sir, me hopes you will have much pity on Missy--she was spoily all her life, by poor massa--her mamma good, very good; and when Missy pinch Zebby, and pricky with pin, then good mississ she be angry; but massa say only--'Poo! poo! she be child--naughty tricks wear off in time.' He be warm man himself."
The poor negro's defence affected the little circle, and Mr. Harewood observing it, said--"You perceive, my dear children, that this child is in fact far
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