When Sally went to the attic1, having it in her mind to fix herself up a little, she had a feeling of anxiety she did not understand. But you see, it was the new Sally, beginning, just beginning, to spring into life.
And the first thing she was learning was her own ignorance, her own needs, and her own wants.
"My head is like a scarecrow!" she said; "where can I find a comb?"
She crept down to Mistress Cory Ann's room and found a coarse, half-broken comb. Alas2! she could do nothing with it. Her ruddy hair curled around it, across it, along it, but through it the matted mass would not go.
It had taken a few moments to make the attempt[Pg 54], and time was precious. So the tangled3 mop was smoothed over, the old dress pressed down, and off ran Sally for her secret, rocky seat by the wall.
Not long had she waited when a merry company came trooping over to the arbor4 and young voices filled the air. Sally knew the voice of the Fairy Prince, of his sister Lucretia, and his cousin Rosamond. And when the names of "Reginald" and "Irene" reached her, she knew that young Reginald Bromfeld and Mistress Irene Westwood, besides two or three others, had rustled5 over to the airy summer-house.
Much it pleased her for awhile to hear the bright and witty6 speeches that were bandied to and fro; then Sam Spruce, a colored boy of about twenty years, in white short sack, black cotton trousers, and white apron8, came gliding9 over the side lawn, tray in hand, and on it were small glasses, a crystal pitcher10, a silver cake dish, delicate plates, and very small, snowy napkins.
"Well, Sam," exclaimed Lionel, in the free[Pg 55] and easy speech often used toward the blacks, "what have you brought for our refreshment11?"
Sam, who had been born in the colonies and felt pride in his niceness of speech, replied:
"There 'r' jujube paste patties, macaroons, and sangaree, Mars' Li'nel."
"Very good, Sam. Set the tray on yonder bench; we will see to passing things ourselves."
There was a cheerful chinking of glasses, much laughter, and the sound of gay spirits, while, her sharp imagination at work, Maid Sally fancied herself one of the group above her head; "and yet," she said to herself, "should my Fairy Prince indeed sit beside me, and hand me fine delicate food and a sweet drink, I think I might die of delight, I do indeed!"
In a few minutes more, the poor child's pleasure became disturbed, for Corniel, the colored butler, came shuffling12 over to the arbor and said, in a manner dignified13 and respectful:
"Mars' Lion, dar have mor' comp'ny come over to de house, and Mars' Gran'son he send his comperalmunts, and would like fo' to have[Pg 56] de young people come up to de drawin'-room and make some music on de peranna and de wiolin."
"Very well, Corniel, we will come directly," answered Lionel, and away trooped the high-born lads and young mistresses, leaving Corniel to gather up the dishes, and leaving poor disappointed little Sally to wander off from the spot that all at once had become quiet and lonely.
As it would be daylight for the space of two hours more, Sally roamed about, amusing herself at seeing what else was going on round and about the place.
Peeping through the garden fence, she watched a colored man, who, kneeling before the flower-beds, plucked up the weeds, tossing them aside, and trolling a light song as he worked.
"I too, would sing, could I but live at Ingleside," murmured Maid Sally.
But an inner voice replied: "You would not wish to be a servant anywhere."
Then across she went to the bars that formed the far boundary of the wide garden.
[Pg 57]Well back of the house in the direction of the stables, old Uncle Gambo was cutting grass with a winding14 scythe15, that had a handle so long it reached way above the old man's head.
Uncle Gambo declared he was "a hun'erd an' ten yeah ole," and as no one could very well dispute it, no one tried to. But as year after year rolled away, Uncle Gambo would still say, "I'se a hun'erd and ten yeah ole."
"Yes, but the same story you told me two years ago, Uncle Gambo," Lionel once said to him. "You must be a hundred and twelve now."
The old negro shook his white, woolly head. "No, no! I'se a hun'erd and ten yeah ole; I allurs was, I allurs shell be."
That settled it. But as the white people knew that the colored men and women usually became seventy-five or a hundred years old very rapidly with their way of reckoning, no one so much wondered at Uncle Gambo's age.
Sally watched the old man reaping, for it fascinated her to see the rich, ripe grass lie smooth and evenly shorn wherever the scythe's[Pg 58] keen blade swept over it. Then she strolled still farther along, trotting16 down and down until she stood near the stables.
A groom17 was trying to comb a splendid black hunter,—a fine saddle horse,—that champed as though a bit were in its mouth, and stepped and curved around, until Bill, the groom, was out of patience and exclaimed:
"Come now, Hotspur, you crazy coot, stan' still, cain't you! Be a genl'man fo' once, Hotspur, and I'll comb you with a bran' fire new brush, Mars' gib me las' night."
At that a queer, wiry brush, partly worn out, was thrown over the bars, falling so near Sally's head, it was well it missed hitting her. But no one saw the little girl beyond the strip fence, and immediately Bill was combing Hotspur's glossy18 sides with strokes so strong and even that the great horse stood stock still.
Sally looked at the brush Bill had tossed away.
"That looks as if it would make my hair lay slick," she said. "I'll take it home, carry it to[Pg 59] the spring and wash it, and try it on my own mane."
She laughed at her own funny words and put the brush in a hanging pocket under her gown, that Mistress Brace19 had made for her to carry money in safely, when she went on errands.
Then away and away she wandered until she had reached the quarters and could peep at the cabins of the colored people through bushes and shrubs20 that were far beyond the stone wall, but on the same side.
At a little distance she looked upon Mammy Leezer sitting against the side of her cabin on a chair that had no back, her pipe in mouth, her hands lying idly in her lap, the knitting for once laid aside.
Sally wished she dared go over and talk with the old woman. Yet again that inner voice answered: "No, no! Mammy Leezer, though kind and comforting betimes, could not be a fitting companion for you. Go not after her, even though it be pleasant to meet her[Pg 60] and hear her soft voice when she speaks to thee."
"Perhaps it is because she is black," thought Sally.
"Oh no, no!" spoke21 the little uprising voice again. "It is because you are different in every way from her and her race, and must not forget it."
Then it was that Sally remembered that several times of late there had seemed to be an inner voice that talked to her, and tried to teach her things she had not known, or at least had not thought of before.
She gave a quick jump, clapped her hands, and exclaimed, in a soft but jubilant voice:
"Oh, I know what I will do! I'll make believe there are two of me. One shall be really me, Sally Dukeen, then there shall be another Sally, a fine, new one, that has been taught by the Fairies, and knows all things that are seemly and proper, even as the upper people do.
"Yes, and I will talk with her," Sally went[Pg 61] on, the pleasant imagination rapidly growing in her quick mind. "I will ask her what to do and how to act, and listen I will to all she can teach."
The idea pleased her so much that she was in a mood to enjoy anything, and she was feeling light-hearted and full of smiles, as a little toddling22 pickaninny, or small black child, ran up to Mammy Leezer, crying out:
"Trip! Trip! go trip, go trip!"
"Lordy sakes!" exclaimed Mammy, "if here isn't lil' Jule asting me fo' to dance her. I ain't got de strength to dance yo' to-night, lil' honey, de rheumatiz have ketched a holt of my back too bad, and got all de grit23 outen me."
"Trip! trip!" cried the cute little Jule, running up to Sam Spruce, who was on a rough chair made from tree branches.
"No matter," said Mammy, with a wide grin, "you dance de lil' cricket, an' I'll do de singin'."
At that Sam crossed his knees, put little Jule[Pg 62] on one foot, and bending over, kept hold of the child's hands while Mammy crooned in a loud singsong, chiefly to one note:
"Trip-a-trop-a-tronjes,
De-vorken-in-de-boonjes,
De-koejes-in-de-klaver,
De-Paarden-in-de-haver,
De-eenjes-in-de-waterplass,
So-pop! my-lil'-pick'ninny goes!"
As Mammy began the slow singsong, Sam began gently swinging the foot up and down on which sat the tiny, laughing Jule, and as the jingle went on, the foot swung faster and faster, until, as Mammy brought out the words, "So pop! my lil' pick'ninny goes!" Sam tossed the shrieking25 child into his lap, where she could only gasp26 with laughter, until able to catch her breath.
Then it was one crying tease for "Anudder trip! Anudder trip!" until six times had baby Jule been teetered on Sam's strong foot, and tossed into Sam's strong arms, Mammy meantime beating the measure with both feet as she[Pg 63] trolled the song with its rapturous "pop!" for little Jule.
"Mammy," he said, "Mars' Gran'son send word dat de capting and some udders will have supper to-morr' night on de green over by de summer-house. And he want you to make some porkapine marmalade, some melon puff28, some peach tart29, and some sorghum30 foam31 to eat on pandowdy with de salads."
Mammy immediately straightened up, put on a face of great importance, and began:
"I ain't fit fo' to try cookin' fancy tings fo' gret suppers, but—"
"Oh, very well," said Corniel, interrupting her, "Jinny can do it if you ain't able; Mars' said so."
"Go 'way, you C'neel, talkin' 'bout7 Jinny doin' my cook'ry. I'd like to be seein' de porkapine marm'lade she'd be makin'! And what[Pg 64] do dat Jinny know 'bout whipped sorghum or melon puff, I should like to inquaire! Tote off, now, you C'neel, an' don't go talkin' 'bout dat Jinny doin' my fancy cook'ry any mor', but jus' you tell Mars' Gran'son I'll hev dat supper firs' class in eb'ry respeck."
Sally somehow liked the pride and scorn that rang out in Mammy's voice at the idea of there being any one else who could do her cooking as well as she could.
"She believes in herself," thought Sally, "and it is a good thing."
Mammy hobbled into her cabin as Corniel and Sam went toward the house, little Jule tagging into the cabin after Mammy. And Sally went back through the sweet air and green roads, and through Shady Path and Lover's Lane, her mind and ears full of the merry laughter of happy little Jule.
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1
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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2
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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3
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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4
arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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7
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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9
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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10
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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12
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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13
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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14
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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scythe
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| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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18
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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toddling
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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24
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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25
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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26
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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28
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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30
sorghum
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| n.高粱属的植物，高粱糖浆，甜得发腻的东西 | |
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31
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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