"De very same," and Hasty nodded mysteriously.
"How you know dat?" Mandy was uncertain whether to believe him.
" 'Cause da's a big, red wagon downtown wid de name ob de show
painted on it. It's de advertisin' one what goes ahead wid all
de pictures what dey pastes up."
"And you been hangin' 'roun' dat wagon?"
"I done thought Miss Polly might want to know."
"See here, lazy nigger, don' you go puttin' no circus notions
into Miss Polly's head. She don' care no more 'bout dem things
since her Uncle Toby done die. She done been satisfied right
whar she am. Jes' you let her be."
"I ain't done nothin'," Hasty protested.
"Nebber do do nothin'," growled Mandy. "Go long now, and get
a-work. Mos' four o'clock and dat Sunday-school-room ain't ready
yet."
Hasty picked up the empty box and the step- ladder and went out
through the gate. He had barely disappeared when a peal of
laughter was heard from the hillside, and before Mandy could get
out of the way, the youngsters came tumbling down the path again.
"Lawsy, lawsy," she gasped, as Polly circled around her, dodging
the children. "You'se cheeks is red as pineys, honey."
"Tag! you're it!" Polly cried, as she touched the widow's
auburn-haired offspring on the sleeve.
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