The Earth Trembled | Page 8

too, like dey
did all our folks?' You used to be so hot fer dat ole Guv'ner Moses and
say he was like de Moses in de Bible--dat he was raised up fer ter lead
de culled people to de promise' lan'. You vote fer him, an' hurrah fer
him, an' whar's yer promise' lan'? Little you know 'bout Scripter when
you say he secon' Moses. Don' want no more sich Moseses in dis town.
Dey wouldn't lebe a brick heah ef dey could take dem off. He'n his tribe
got away wid 'bout all ole Missus' and young Missus' prop'ty in my
'pinion. Anyhow I feels it in my bones dey's poah, an' I mus' try an' fin'
out. Dey's so proud dey'd starbe fore dey'd let on."
"'Spose you does fin' out, what kin you do? You gwine ter buy back de
big house fer dem?"
"I'se not de one ter talk big 'bout what I'se gwine ter do," replied Aun'
Sheba, nodding her head portentously as she knocked the ashes from
her pipe, and prepared for the remaining tasks of the evening.

Her husband's self-interest took alarm at once, and he began to hitch
uneasily on his chair. At last he broke out: "Now look heah, Aun' Sheba,
you'se got suffin on you' min' 'bout dem white folks--"
"Dem white folks! Who you talkin' 'bout?"
"Well, dey ain't none o' our flesh an' blood, and de Bible say shuah dat
dey dat don' pervide fer dere own flesh an' blood am wuss dan a
inferdel."
"Den I reckon you'se an inferdel, Mister Buggone," retorted Aun' Sheba,
severely.
"I'se not," retorted her husband, assuming much solemnity, "I'se a
'umble an' 'flicted sarbent ob de Lawd, an' it's my duty to 'monstrate
wid you. I know what's on you' min'. You'se gwine ter do fer dem white
folks when you got all you kin do now."
"Mister Buggone, don' you call Miss Mara white folks no mo'."
"Well, ain't she white folks? Didn't I slabe fer her granpar yeahs an'
yeahs, an' wat I got ter show fer 't?"
"You got no stripes on you back, an' you'd had plenty ter show ef you'd
wuked fer any oder man. I 'member all about you slabin' an' how de
good major use' to let you off. You know, too, dat he war so took up
wid his book dat you could do foolishness right under his nose. An' dar
was my poah young Missy Mary, who hadn't de heart to hurt a skeeter.
You s'pose I watch ober dat broken-hearted lam' an' her little chile an'
den heah 'em called white folks, as if dey'se no 'count ter me? How
ofen dat poah dyin' lam' turn to me in de middle ob de night an' say ter
me, Sheba, you will took keer on my chile ef it libe, an' I say to her
'fore de Lawd dat I would. An' I did too. Dat po' little moderless and
faderless chile lay on my bosom till I lubed it fer hersef, and Missy
Mara neber gwine to hab trubble when I ain't dar."
Aun' Sheba's voice had been reaching a higher and higher key under the
influence of reminiscence and indignation. Although her husband was

in dire trepidation he felt that this point was too serious to be yielded
without a desperate effort. He had been put on short allowance once
before when his wife had gone to help take care of Mara in a severe
illness, and now he had a presentiment that Aun' Sheba would try to
help support the girl and her great-aunt as well as himself. Such an
attempt threatened privations which were harrowing even to
contemplate, and in a sort of desperation he resolved once more to
assert his marital position. "Aun' Sheba," he began with much dignity,
"I'se been bery easy an' bendin' like ter you. I'se gib you you'se own
head dead agin de principles ob Scripter which say dat de husban' am
de head ob de wife--"
"Mister Buggone," interrupted Aun' Sheba in a passion which was
bursting all restraint, "you'se wrestin' Scripter to you'se own 'struction.
Ef you am de head ob dis fam'ly, I'se gwine ter sit down an fole my
hans, an you can jes' git out an earn my libin' an' yours too. Git up dar
now, an' bring in de wood an' de kinlin' fer de mawnin', an' when
mawnin' come, you make de fiah. Arter breakfas' you start right off ter
work, and I'se sit on de do' step and talk to de neighbos. You shall hab
all de headin ob de house you wants, but you can't hab de 'sition widout
de 'sponsibilities. I'se gwine now to take a res' an' be 'sported," and the
irate wife