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"I beats it up to the big house, but when I gets there I see n.o.body's livin' in it. The windows has boards across 'em. I looks in between the cracks 'n' sees a whale of a room. Hangin' from the ceilin' is two things fur lights all covered with gla.s.s dingles. They ain't nothin'
else in the room but a tall mirror, made of gold, that goes clear to the ceilin'. I walks clean around the house, but it's sure empty, so I oozes back to the barns 'n' collars the sales clerk.
"'I'm a-lookin' fur Miss Goodloe,' I tells him. 'A n.i.g.g.e.r says she's at the house, but I've just been up there 'n' they ain't even furniture in it.'
"'No,' says the clerk; 'the furniture was sold to a New York collector two weeks ago. Miss Goodloe is livin' in the head trainer's house across the road yonder. She won't have that long, I don't reckon, though I did hear she's fixin' to buy it when the farm sells, with some money ole Mrs. Goodloe left her.'
"I goes over to the little house the clerk points out, 'n' knocks. A right fat n.i.g.g.e.r woman, with her sleeves rolled up, comes to the door.
"'What you want?' she says.
"'I want to see Miss Goodloe,' I says.
"'You cyant see her. She ain' seein' n.o.body,' says the n.i.g.g.e.r woman, 'n' starts to shut the door.
"'Wait a minute, aunty," I says. 'I got to see her--it's business, sure-enough business.'
"'Doan you aunty me!' says she. 'Now, you take yo' bisniss with you an' ramble! Bisniss has done sole off eve'y stick an' stone we got! I doan want to hyar no mo' 'bout bisniss long as I live'--'n' bang goes the door.
"I waits a minute 'n' then knocks again--nothin' doin'. I knocks fur five minutes steady. Pretty soon here she comes, but this time she's got a big bra.s.s-handled poker with her.
"'Ef I has to clout you ovah de haid wid dis pokah you ain' gwine to transack no mo' bisniss fo' a tollable long time!' she says. She's mad all right, 'n' she hollers this at me pretty loud.
"'Fore I can say anythin' a dame steps out in the hall 'n' looks at me 'n' the n.i.g.g.e.r woman 'n' the poker.
"'What's the matter, Liza?' she says to the n.i.g.g.e.r woman, 'n' her voice is good to listen at. You don't care what she says, just so she keeps a-sayin' it. She's got on a white dress with black fixin's on it, 'n'
she just suits her dress, 'cause her hair is dark 'n' her face is white, 'n' she has great big eyes that put me in mind of--I don't know what! She ain't very tall, but she makes me feel littler'n her when she looks at me. She's twenty-four or five, mebby, but I'm a b.u.m guesser at a dame's age.
"'Dis pusson boun' he gwine to see you an' I boun' he ain', Miss Sally,' says the n.i.g.g.e.r woman. The little dame comes out on the porch.
"'I am Miss Goodloe,' she says to me. 'What do you wish?'
"'I want to buy a hoss from you, ma'am,' I says to her.
"'The horses are being sold across the way at that biggest barn,' she says.
"'Yes'm,' I says, 'I've just come from there. I--'
"'Have you been watching the sale?' she says, breakin' in.
"'Yes'm--some,' I says.
"'Liza, you may go to your kitchen now,' she says. 'Can you tell me if they have sold the mare, Mary Goodloe, yet?' she says to me when the n.i.g.g.e.r woman's gone.
"'Yes'm, she was sold,' I says.
"She flinches like I'd hit her 'n' I see her chin begin to quiver, but she bites her lip 'n' I looks off down the road to give her a chance.
Pretty soon she's back fur more. I'm feelin' like a hound.
"'Do you know who bought her?' she says.
"'A n.i.g.g.e.r man they call Uncle Jake buys her,' I says.
"'Uncle Jake!' she says. 'Are you sure? Was he an old man with poor eyesight?'
"'He was old all right,' I says. 'But I don't notice about his eyes.
He give twenty dollars fur her.'
"'Is that all she brought?' she says.
"'Well, she brings more,' I says, 'only the ole man makes a speech 'n'
tells 'em he's buying her fur you. Everybody quit biddin' then.' She stands there a minute, her eyes gettin' bigger 'n' bigger. I never see eyes so big 'n' soft 'n' dark.
"'Would you do me a favor?' she says at last.
"'Fifty of 'em,' I says. She gives me a little smile.
"'One's all that's necessary, thank you,' she says. 'Will you find Uncle Jake for me and tell him I wish to see him?'
"'You bet I will,' I says, 'n' I beats it over to the barns. . . I finds Uncle Jake, 'n' he's got weak eyes all right--he can't hardly see. He's got rheumatism, too--he's all crippled up with it. When I gets back with him, Miss Goodloe's still standin' on the porch.
"'I want to find out who bought old Mary, Uncle Jake,' she says. 'Do you know?'
"'I was jus' fixin' to come over hyar an' tell you de good news, Miss Sally,' says Uncle Jake. 'When dey puts ole Mahey up to' sale, she look pow'ful ole an' feeble. De autioneer jes 'seeches 'em fo' to make some sawt o' bid, but hit ain' no use. Dey doan' n.o.body want her. Hit look lak de auctioneer in a bad hole--he doan' know what to do zakly.
Hit's gittin' mighty 'baha.s.sin' fo' him, so I say to him: "Mr.
Auctioneer, I ain' promisin' nothin', but Miss Sally Goodloe mought be willin' to keep dis hyar ole mare fo' 'membrance sake." De auctioneer am mighty tickled, an' he say, "Uncle Jake, ef Miss Sally will 'soom de 'sponsibility ob dis ole mare, hit would 'blige me greatly." Dat's howk.u.m ole Mahey back safe in de paddock, an' dey ain' _n.o.body_ gwine to take her away fum you, honey!'
"'Uncle Jake,' says Miss Goodloe, 'where is your twenty dollars you got for that tobacco you raised?'
"'Ain' I tole you 'bout dat, Miss Sally? Dat mis'able money done skip out an' leave thoo a hole in ma pocket,' says Uncle Jake, 'n' pulls one of his pants pockets inside out. Sure enough, there's a big hole in it.
"'Didn't I give you a safety-pin to pin that money in your inside coat pocket?' says Miss Goodloe.
"'Yess'm, dat's right,' he says. 'But I'se countin' de money one day an' a span ob mules broke loose an' stahts lickety-brindle fo' de bahn, an' aimin' to ketch de mules, I pokes de money in de pocket wid de hole. I ain' neber see dat no-'coun' money sence.'
"Miss Goodloe looks at the ole n.i.g.g.e.r fur a minute.
"'Uncle Jake . . . oh, Uncle Jake . . .' she says. '_These_ are the things I just _can't_ stand!' Her eyes fill up, 'n' while she bites her lip agin, it ain't no use. Two big tears roll down her cheeks. 'I'll see you in a moment,' she says to me, 'n' goes inside.
"'Bad times! Bad times, pow'ful bad times!' says Uncle Jake, 'n'
hobbles away a-mutterin' to hisself.
"It's begun to get under my skin right. I'm feelin' queer, 'n' I gets to thinkin' I'd better beat it. 'Don't be a d.a.m.n fool!' I says to myself. 'You ain't had nothin' to do with the cussed business 'n' you can't help it none. If you don't buy this colt somebody else will.'
So I sets on the edge of the porch 'n' waits. It ain't so long till Miss Goodloe comes out again. I gets up 'n' takes off my hat.
"'What horse do you wish to buy?' she says.
"'A big chestnut colt by Calabash, dam Mary Goodloe,' I says. 'They tell me you own him.'
"'Oh, I _can't_ sell _him_!' she says, backin' towards the door. 'No one has ever ridden him but me.'