The Starbucks | Page 9

letter an' read it off just like print. Here, Kintchin! Kintchin! That nigger's asleep somewhar. One of these days somebody will fill him so full of lead you couldn't turn him over with a hand spike." Kintchin appeared at the door, stretching himself and rubbing his eyes. "What have you been doin'?"
"Who, me?"
"Yes, you."
"Wall, suh, I ain't been ersleep ef dat whut you means."
"Then why didn't you answer me?"
"W'y, suh, I had my min' flung down on er 'ligious subjeck an' it wuz all I coul' do ter t'ar it off."
"Ah, thought I hearn suthin' rip like a piece of tent cloth," and giving Kintchin the harness he continued: "Here, hitch up old Dick and drive these folks over to the post office."
"Yas, suh."
"And when you come back you can break that young steer."
"Yas, suh, break de steer."
"And when you get the steer broke," said Margaret, "I want you to make me an ash hopper."
"Yas'm," replied the old negro, looking at her and then at Starbuck.
"And then," said Jasper, "I want you to hive the bees."
"And then," Margaret spoke up, "you may fix the loom."
"Yas'm, fix de loom."
"When that is done," said Starbuck, "you may rive some clap-boards to cover the spring house."
"Yas, suh, ter kiver de spring house;" and scratching his head he stood for a moment as if in deep thought. "An' look yere, Mr. Starbuck, while I'se gone to the pos' office don't you reckon you kin think up suthin' fur me ter do?"
"How willing he is to work," Mrs. Mayfield sympathetically remarked.
Kintchin ducked his head at her. "W'y, Lawd bless yo' life, honey, I doan know nuthin' else. One time not long ergo I foun' o' er mawnin' dat I wuz monst'us tired, an' den I come ter fin' out dat I been er gittin' up an' er workin' in my sleep. Yas'm."
He looked at Jasper, expecting something, and it came: "Was that the time they found the ham under yo' bed?"
"Mr. Starbuck, whut you all de time come er talkin' datter way fur? Ain't dar nuthin' in dis life ter talk erbout 'cept politics? Doan you know you got er soul ter save? Doan you know dat de Lawd frown on slander? I doan care fur myse'f but I hate ter see er good man fling erway his chances o' de salvation. An' suthin' gwine happen ter you ef you keeps on 'sposin' yo'se'f."
Starbuck good naturedly drove him out, clucking at him as if he were a horse. Lou slowly folded the paper which she had been gazing at during all this time and said: "Oh, you must let me keep this."
"It amounts to nothing," replied Tom, making a pretense of taking the paper but permitting her to retain it. "I will write you something prettier."
"No, I want this."
"She is beginning early to mistrust promises," remarked Mrs. Mayfield.
"Oh, she knows the world," said Mrs. Starbuck. "She went to school for two years over at Dry Fork. That's where she l'arned to play that melogian."
"Yes," Jasper spoke up, "and the fust time I hearn it I thought a tree had fell on one of the calves. Why, helloa, mammy, come in. Lookin' fur suthin'?"
"I must er lef' my old pipe yere summers," said the old negro woman, coming into the room.
"Here it is," said Jasper taking a cob pipe from the mantle-piece and giving it to her. "Won't you sit down, mammy? You look so tired."
"No, Mars Jasper, I hain't hardly got time." She looked at the company, bade every one good morning, with a heart-felt "God bless you;" and looking at Mrs. Mayfield, slowly advanced toward her, gazing at her hand. "W'y, honey, I neber seed de like o' putty rings you's got on. Da's like de speret o' light er wrappin' round yo' fingers."
"Mammy, they are but glittering memories."
"Yas'm, da do shine might'ly ef dat whut you means."
Tom and Lou were going out. "Don't stray off," said Mrs. Mayfield. "We are going to the post office, you know."
"Yes, if that fetch-taked nigger ever gits the hoss hitched up," Margaret spoke up.
Jasper snatched up his hat. "Oh, he'd hitch up a hoss to the fou'th of July jest about in time to drive up to the front door of Christmas. I'll go and see about it myse'f. Slowest nigger I ever seed," and muttering he went out. Old mammy, still looking at the city woman's rings, began softly to croon: "I neber seed er po' ole nigger dat didn't like rings. I had er whole lot o' 'em once, but da turned green, an' da'd pizen me ef I teched 'em wid my mouf. But one time Mars Jasper gib me one dat didn't turn green, an' I lost it. You allus loses de best, you know. Honey, Mars Jasper is allus doin' suthin' fur