"Sure, I'se back," answered Hasty, good- naturedly, as he sank
upon an empty box that had held some things for the social, and
pretended to wipe the perspiration from his forehead.
"Masse John done send you to de post office two hours ago," said
Mandy, as she took the letters and papers from his hand. "Five
minutes is plenty ob time for any nigger to do dat job."
"I done been detained," Hasty drawled.
"You'se always 'tained when dar's any work a-goin' on," Mandy
snapped at him.
"Whar's Miss Polly?" Hasty asked, ignoring Mandy's reference to
work.
"Nebber you mind 'bout Miss Polly. She don't want you. Jes' you
done fetch that step-ladder into de Sunday-school-room."
"But I wants her," Hasty insisted. "I'se been on very 'ticular
business what she ought to know 'bout."
"Business?" she repeated. "What kind ob business?"
"I got to fix de Sunday-school-room," said Hasty, as he perceived
her growing curiosity.
"You come heah, nigger!" Mandy called, determined that none of
the village doings should escape her. "Out wid it!"
"Well, it's 'bout de circus," Hasty answered? seating himself
again on the box. "Dey's showin' in Wakefield to-night, and next
month dey's comin' here."
"Dat same circus what Miss Polly used to be wid?" Mandy's eyes
grew large with curiosity.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89