Work: A Story of Experience | Page 8

bell, honey, and he likes it done
bery spry."
Christie ran and admitted an impetuous, stout gentleman, who appeared
to be incensed against the elements, for he burst in as if blown, shook
himself like a Newfoundland dog, and said all in one breath:
"You're the new girl, are you? Well, take my umbrella and pull off my
rubbers."
"Sir?"
Mr. Stuart was struggling with his gloves, and, quite unconscious of the
astonishment of his new maid, impatiently repeated his request.
"Take this wet thing away, and pull off my overshoes. Don't you see it's
raining like the very deuce!"
Christie folded her lips together in a peculiar manner as she knelt down
and removed a pair of muddy overshoes, took the dripping umbrella,
and was walking away with her agreeable burden when Mr. Stuart gave
her another shock by calling over the banister:
"I'm going out again; so clean those rubbers, and see that the boots I
sent down this morning are in order."
"Yes, sir," answered Christie meekly, and immediately afterward
startled Hepsey by casting overshoes and umbrella upon the kitchen
floor, and indignantly demanding:
"Am I expected to be a boot-jack to that man?"
"I 'spects you is, honey."
"Am I also expected to clean his boots?"
"Yes, chile. Katy did, and de work ain't hard when you gits used to it."
"It isn't the work; it's the degradation; and I won't submit to it."
Christie looked fiercely determined; but Hepsey shook her head, saying
quietly as she went on garnishing a dish:
"Dere's more 'gradin' works dan dat, chile, and dem dat's bin 'bliged to
do um finds dis sort bery easy. You's paid for it, honey; and if you does
it willin, it won't hurt you more dan washin' de marster's dishes, or
sweepin' his rooms."
"There ought to be a boy to do this sort of thing. Do you think it's right
to ask it of me?" cried Christie, feeling that being servant was not as
pleasant a task as she had thought it.
"Dunno, chile. I'se shore I'd never ask it of any woman if I was a man,
'less I was sick or ole. But folks don't seem to 'member dat we've got

feelin's, and de best way is not to mind dese ere little trubbles. You jes
leave de boots to me; blackin' can't do dese ole hands no hurt, and dis
ain't no deggydation to me now; I's a free woman."
"Why, Hepsey, were you ever a slave?" asked the girl, forgetting her
own small injury at this suggestion of the greatest of all wrongs.
"All my life, till I run away five year ago. My ole folks, and eight
brudders and sisters, is down dere in de pit now; waitin' for the Lord to
set 'em free. And He's gwine to do it soon, soon!" As she uttered the
last words, a sudden light chased the tragic shadow from Hepsey's face,
and the solemn fervor of her voice thrilled Christie's heart. All her
anger died out in a great pity, and she put her hand on the woman's
shoulder, saying earnestly:
"I hope so; and I wish I could help to bring that happy day at once!"
For the first time Hepsey smiled, as she said gratefully, "De Lord bress
you for dat wish, chile." Then, dropping suddenly into her old, quiet
way, she added, turning to her work:
"Now you tote up de dinner, and I'll be handy by to 'fresh your mind
'bout how de dishes goes, for missis is bery 'ticular, and don't like no
'stakes in tendin'."
Thanks to her own neat-handed ways and Hepsey's prompting through
the slide, Christie got on very well; managed her salver dexterously,
only upset one glass, clashed one dish-cover, and forgot to sugar the pie
before putting it on the table; an omission which was majestically
pointed out, and graciously pardoned as a first offence.
By seven o'clock the ceremonial was fairly over, and Christie dropped
into a chair quite tired out with frequent pacings to and fro. In the
kitchen she found the table spread for one, and Hepsey busy with the
boots.
"Aren't you coming to your dinner, Mrs. Johnson?" she asked, not
pleased at the arrangement.
"When you's done, honey; dere's no hurry 'bout me. Katy liked dat way
best, and I'se used ter waitin'."
"But I don't like that way, and I won't have it. I suppose Katy thought
her white skin gave her a right to be disrespectful to a woman old
enough to be her mother just because she was black. I don't; and while
I'm here, there must be no difference made. If we can work together,
we can eat together; and because you have been a slave is all the more

reason I