Diddie, Dumps and Tot Part 3

At the head of the table was the bride-cake, containing the "ring" and the "dime;" it was handsomely iced, and had a candy Cupid perched over it, on a holly bough which was stuck in a hole in the middle of the cake. It was to be cut after a while by each of the bridesmaids and groomsmen in turns; and whoever should cut the slice containing the ring would be the next one to get married; but whoever should get the dime was to be an old maid or an old bachelor.

The supper was enjoyed hugely, particularly a big bowl of eggnog, which so enlivened them all that the dancing was entered into with renewed vigor, and kept up till the gray tints in the east warned them that another day had dawned, and that Christmas was over.

But you may be sure that in all Christendom it had been welcomed in and ushered out by no merrier, lighter hearts than those of the happy, contented folks on the old plantation.

CHAPTER III.

MAMMY'S STORY.

One cold, rainy night a little group were a.s.sembled around a crackling wood fire in the nursery; Mammy was seated in a low chair, with Tot in her arms; Dumps was rocking her doll back and forth, and Diddie was sitting at the table reading; Aunt Milly was knitting, and the three little darkies were nodding by the fire.

"Mammy," said Dumps, "s'posin' you tell us a tale." Tot warmly seconded the motion, and Mammy, who was never more delighted than when astonishing the children with her wonderful stories, at once a.s.sumed a meditative air. "Lem me see," said the old woman, scratching her head; "I reckon I'll tell yer 'bout de wushin'-stone, ain't neber told yer dat yit. I know yer've maybe hearn on it, leastways Milly has; but den she mayn't have hearn de straight on it, fur 'taint eb'y n.i.g.g.e.r knows it.

Yer see, Milly, my mammy was er 'riginal Guinea n.i.g.g.e.r, an' she knowed 'bout de wushin'-stone herse'f, an' she told me one Wednesday night on de full er de moon, an' w'at I'm gwine ter tell yer is de truff."

Having thus authenticated her story beyond a doubt, Mammy hugged Tot a little closer and began:

"Once 'pon er time dar wuz a beautiful gyarden wid all kind er nice blossoms, an' trees, an' brooks, an' things, whar all de little chil'en usen ter go and play, an' in dis gyarden de gra.s.s wuz allers green, de blossoms allers bright, and de streams allers clar, caze hit b'longed to er little Fraid, named Cheery."

"A 'little Fraid,'" interrupted Diddie, contemptuously. "Why, Mammy, there's no such a thing as a 'Fraid.'"

"Lord, Miss Diddie, 'deed dey is," said Dilsey, with her round eyes stretched to their utmost; "I done seed 'em myse'f, an' our Club-foot Bill he was er gwine 'long one time--"

"Look er hyear, yer kinky-head n.i.g.g.e.r, whar's yer manners?" asked Mammy, "'ruptin uv eld'ly pussons. "I'm de one w'at's 'struck'n dese chil'en, done strucked dey mother fuss; I'll tell 'em w'at's becomin' fur 'em ter know; I don't want 'em ter hyear nuf'n 'bout sich low cornfiel' n.i.g.g.e.rs ez Club-foot Bill.

"Yes, Miss Diddie, honey," said Mammy, resuming her story, "dar sholy is Fraids; Mammy ain't gwine tell yer nuf'n', honey, w'at she dun know fur er fack; so as I wuz er sayin', dis little Fraid wuz name Cheery, an'

she'd go all 'roun' eb'y mornin' an' tech up de gra.s.s an' blossoms an'

keep 'em fresh, fur she loved ter see chil'en happy, an' w'en dey rolled ober on de gra.s.s, an' strung de blossoms, an' waded up an' down de streams, an' peeped roun' de trees, Cheery'd clap 'er han's an'

laugh, an' dance roun' an' roun'; an' sometimes dar'd be little po'

white chil'en, an' little misfortnit n.i.g.g.e.rs would go dar; an' w'en she'd see de bright look in dey tired eyes, she'd fix things prettier 'n eber.

"Now dar wuz er nudder little Fraid name Dreary; an' she wuz sad an'

gloomy, an' nebber dance, nor play, nor nuf'n; but would jes go off poutin' like to herse'f. Well, one day she seed er big flat stone under a tree. She said ter herse'f, 'I ain't gwine ter be like dat foolish Cheery, dancin' an' laughin' foreber, caze she thinks sich things ez flowers an' gra.s.s kin make folks happy; but I'm gwine ter do er rael good ter eb'ybody;' so she laid er spell on de stone, so dat w'en anybody sot on de stone an' wush anything dey'd hab jes w'at dey wush fur; an' so as ter let er heap er folks wush at once, she made it so dat eb'y wush would make de stone twice ez big ez 'twuz befo'.

"Po' little Cheery was mighty troubled in her min' w'en she foun' out bout'n hit, an' she beg Dreary ter tuck de spell off; but no, she wouldn't do it. She 'lowed, do, ef anybody should eber wush anything fur anybody else, dat den de stone might shrink up ergin; fur who, she sez ter herse'f, is gwine ter wush fur things fur tudder folks? An' she tol'

de little birds dat stay in de tree de stone wuz under, when anybody sot on de stone dey mus' sing,' I wush I had,' an' 'I wush I wuz,' so as ter min 'em bout'n de wushin'-stone. Well, 'twan't long fo' de gyarden wuz plum crowded wid folks come ter wush on de stone, an' hit wuz er growin' bigger an' bigger all de time, an' mashin' de blossoms an'

gra.s.s; an' dar wan't no mo' merry chil'en playin' 'mong de trees an'

wadin' in de streams; no soun's ob laughin' and joy in de gyarden; eb'ybody wuz er quarlin' bout'n who should hab de nex' place, or wuz tryin' ter study up what dey'd wush fur; an' Cheery wuz jes ez mizer'bul as er free n.i.g.g.e.r, 'bout her gyarden.

"De folks would set on de stone, while de little birds would sing,' I wush I had;' an' dey'd wush dey had money, an' fren's, an' sense, an'

happiness, an' 'ligion; an' 'twould all come true jes like dey wush fur.

Den de little birds would sing,' I wush I wuz;' an' dey'd wush dey wuz lubly, an' good, an' gran'; un' 'twould all come ter pa.s.s jes so.

"But all dat time n.o.body neber wush n.o.body else was rich, an' good, an'

lubly, an' happy; fur don't yer see de birds neber sung,' I wush _you_ wuz,' 'I wush _dey_ had;' but all de time 'I wush _I_ wuz,' 'I wush _I_ had.' At last, one day dar come inter de gyarden er po' little cripple gal, who lived 'way off in er ole tumble-down house. She wuz er little po' white chile, an' she didn't hab no farder nor mudder, nor n.i.g.g.e.rs ter do fur her, an' she had to do all her own wuck herse'f."

"Bress de Lord!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Aunt Milly, who was becoming very much interested in the story, while tears gathered in Dumps's blue eyes; and even Diddie was seen to wink a little at the forlorn condition of "de po' white chile."

"Yes, indeed," continued Mammy, "she done all her own wuk herse'f, an'

n.o.body ter say er blessed word ter her, nor he'p her a bit; an' she neber eben hyeard ob de wushin'-stone, but had jes come out fur er little while ter enjoy de birds, an' de fresh air, an' flowers, same as de quality folks; fur she was mos' all de time sick, an' dis wuz jes de same as Christmus ter her. She hobbled erlong on her crutchers, an'

atter while she got ter de stone; an' hit so happened dar wan't n.o.body dar, so she sot down ter res'. Well, mun, she hadn't mo'n totch de stone when de little birds began, 'I wush I had,' 'I wush I wuz.'

"'Oh, what er sweet, pretty place!' de little gal said; an' what nice little birds! I wush dat po' ole sick man what libs next ter us could come out here and see it all.'

"'I wush I had,' 'I wush I wuz,' sung de little birds. 'I wush all de po' chil'en could come an' spen' de day here,' said de little gal; 'what er nice time dey would hab!'

"'I wush I wuz,' 'I wush I had,' sung de birds in er flutter, hoppin'

all 'bout 'mong de branches.

"'An' all de lame people, an' sick people, an' ole people,' said de little gal, 'I wush dey could all git well, an strong, an' lib in er beautiful place jes like dis, an' all be happy.'

"Oh, de little birds! what er bustle dey wuz in, to be sho'! Dey sot upon de bery topes' branches, an' dey sung like dey d split dey troats,

"'I wush _I_ had,' 'I wush _I_ wuz.'

"But de little gal neber min' 'em. She was rested, an hobbled on all by herse'f, but now, sence she done wush fur blessin's fur tudder folks, de spell was loosen', an' de stone all drawed up ter a little bit er stone, den sunk away in de groun' clar out o' sight. An' dat wuz de last ob de wushin'-stone."

"Dar now!" exclaimed Aunt Milly.

"De truff, sho'! jes like I ben tellin' yer," said Mammy.

"But, Mammy, what about the little girl? did she ever get well an'

strong, an' not be lame any more?" asked Dumps.

"Well, honey, yer see de Lord, he fixes all dat. He son't fur her one night, an' she jes smiled, bright an' happy like, an' laid right back in de angel's arms; an' he tuck her right along up thu de hebenly gates, an' soon as eber he sot her down, an' her foot totch dem golden streets, de lameness, an' sickness, an' po'ness all come right; an' her fader, an' her mudder, an' her n.i.g.g.e.rs wuz all dar, an' she wuz well an'

strong, an' good an' happy. Jes' like she wush fur de po' folks, an' de sick folks, de Lord he fixed it jes dat way fur her. He fixed all dat hisse'f."

CHAPTER IV.

OLD BILLY.

The gin-house on the plantation was some distance from the house, and in an opposite direction from the quarters. It was out in an open field, but a narrow strip of woods lay between the field and the house, so the gin-house was completely hidden.

Just back of the gin-house was a pile of lumber that Major Waldron had had hauled to build a new pick-room, and which was piled so as to form little squares, large enough to hold three of the children at once.

During the last ginning season they had gone down once with Mammy to "ride on the gin," but had soon abandoned that amus.e.m.e.nt to play housekeeping on the lumber, and have the little squares for rooms. They had often since thought of that evening, and had repeatedly begged Mammy to let them go down to the lumber pile; but she was afraid they would tear their clothes, or hurt themselves in some way, and would never consent.

So one day in the early spring, when Mammy and Aunt Milly were having a great cleaning-up in the nursery and the children had been sent into the yard to play, Chris suggested that they should all slip off, and go and play on the lumber pile.

"Oh yes," said Dumps, "that will be the very thing, an' Mammy won't never know it, 'cause we'll be sho' ter come back befo' snack-time."

"But something might happen to us, you know," said Diddie, "like the boy in my blue book, who went off fishin' when his mother told him not to, an' the boat upsetted and drownded him."