Seventeen [28]
I'm sure I've no objection. And if she does do it, why should you be insulted by my mentioning it?''
``It was the way you said it,'' he informed her, icily.
``Good gracious! I just said it!'' Mrs. Baxter laughed, and then, probably a little out of patience with him, she gave way to that innate mischievousness in such affairs which is not unknown to her sex. ``You see, Willie, if she pretends to be a cunning little girl, it will be helpful to Jane to listen and learn how.''
William uttered a cry; he knew that he was struck, but he was not sure how or where. He was left with a blank mind and no repartee. Again he dashed from the room.
In the hall, near the open front door, he came to a sudden halt, and Mrs. Baxter and Jane heard him calling loudly to the industrious Genesis:
``Here! You go cut the grass in the back yard, and for Heaven's sake, take that dog with you!''
``Grass awready cut roun' back,'' responded the amiable voice of Genesis, while the lawn- mower ceased not to whir. ``Cut all 'at back yod 's mawnin'.''
``Well, you can't cut the front yard now. Go around in the back yard and take that dog with you.''
``Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod! Ole Clem ain' trouble nobody.''
``You hear what I tell you?'' William shouted. ``You do what I say and you do it quick!''
Genesis laughed gaily. ``I got my grass to cut!''
``You decline to do what I command you?'' William roared.
``Yes, indeedy! Who pay me my wages? 'At's MY boss. You' ma say, 'Genesis, you git all 'at lawn mowed b'fo' sundown.' No, suh! Nee'n' was'e you' bref on me, 'cause I'm got all MY time good an' took up!''
Once more William presented himself fatefully to his mother and Jane. ``May I just kindly ask you to look out in the front yard?''
``I'm familiar with it, Willie,'' Mrs. Baxter returned, a little wearily.
``I mean I want you to look at Genesis.''
``I'm familiar with his appearance, too,'' she said. ``Why in the world do you mind his cutting the grass?''
William groaned. ``Do you honestly want guests coming to this house to see that awful old darky out there and know that HE'S the kind of servants we employ? Ye gods!''
``Why, Genesis is just a neighborhood outdoors darky, Willie; he works for half a dozen families besides us. Everybody in this part of town knows him.''
``Yes,'' he cried, ``but a lady that didn't live here wouldn't. Ye gods! What do you suppose she WOULD think? You know what he's got on!''
``It's a sort of sleeveless jersey he wears, Willie, I think.''
``No, you DON'T think that!'' he cried, with great bitterness. ``You know it's not a jersey! You know perfectly well what it is, and yet you expect to keep him out there when--when one of the one of the nobl--when my friends arrive! And they'll think that's our DOG out there, won't they? When intelligent people come to a house and see a dog sitting out in front, they think it's the family in the house's dog, don't they?'' William's condition becoming more and more disordered, he paced the room, while his agony rose to a climax. ``Ye gods! What do you think Miss Pratt will think of the people of this town, when she's invited to meet a few of my friends and the first thing she sees is a nigger in his undershirt? What 'll she think when she finds that child's eaten up half the food, and the people have to explain that the dog in the front yard belongs to the darky--'' He interrupted himself with a groan: ``And prob'ly she wouldn't believe it. Anybody'd SAY they didn't own a dog like that! And that's what you want her to see, before she even gets inside the house! Instead of a regular gardener in livery like we ought to have, and a bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or something, the first things you want intelligent people from out of town to see are that awful old darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like as not lettin' 'em get on other people! THAT'd be nice, wouldn't it? Go out to tea expecting decent treatment and get fl--''
``WILLIE!''
Mrs. Baxter managed to obtain his attention.
``It was the way you said it,'' he informed her, icily.
``Good gracious! I just said it!'' Mrs. Baxter laughed, and then, probably a little out of patience with him, she gave way to that innate mischievousness in such affairs which is not unknown to her sex. ``You see, Willie, if she pretends to be a cunning little girl, it will be helpful to Jane to listen and learn how.''
William uttered a cry; he knew that he was struck, but he was not sure how or where. He was left with a blank mind and no repartee. Again he dashed from the room.
In the hall, near the open front door, he came to a sudden halt, and Mrs. Baxter and Jane heard him calling loudly to the industrious Genesis:
``Here! You go cut the grass in the back yard, and for Heaven's sake, take that dog with you!''
``Grass awready cut roun' back,'' responded the amiable voice of Genesis, while the lawn- mower ceased not to whir. ``Cut all 'at back yod 's mawnin'.''
``Well, you can't cut the front yard now. Go around in the back yard and take that dog with you.''
``Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod! Ole Clem ain' trouble nobody.''
``You hear what I tell you?'' William shouted. ``You do what I say and you do it quick!''
Genesis laughed gaily. ``I got my grass to cut!''
``You decline to do what I command you?'' William roared.
``Yes, indeedy! Who pay me my wages? 'At's MY boss. You' ma say, 'Genesis, you git all 'at lawn mowed b'fo' sundown.' No, suh! Nee'n' was'e you' bref on me, 'cause I'm got all MY time good an' took up!''
Once more William presented himself fatefully to his mother and Jane. ``May I just kindly ask you to look out in the front yard?''
``I'm familiar with it, Willie,'' Mrs. Baxter returned, a little wearily.
``I mean I want you to look at Genesis.''
``I'm familiar with his appearance, too,'' she said. ``Why in the world do you mind his cutting the grass?''
William groaned. ``Do you honestly want guests coming to this house to see that awful old darky out there and know that HE'S the kind of servants we employ? Ye gods!''
``Why, Genesis is just a neighborhood outdoors darky, Willie; he works for half a dozen families besides us. Everybody in this part of town knows him.''
``Yes,'' he cried, ``but a lady that didn't live here wouldn't. Ye gods! What do you suppose she WOULD think? You know what he's got on!''
``It's a sort of sleeveless jersey he wears, Willie, I think.''
``No, you DON'T think that!'' he cried, with great bitterness. ``You know it's not a jersey! You know perfectly well what it is, and yet you expect to keep him out there when--when one of the one of the nobl--when my friends arrive! And they'll think that's our DOG out there, won't they? When intelligent people come to a house and see a dog sitting out in front, they think it's the family in the house's dog, don't they?'' William's condition becoming more and more disordered, he paced the room, while his agony rose to a climax. ``Ye gods! What do you think Miss Pratt will think of the people of this town, when she's invited to meet a few of my friends and the first thing she sees is a nigger in his undershirt? What 'll she think when she finds that child's eaten up half the food, and the people have to explain that the dog in the front yard belongs to the darky--'' He interrupted himself with a groan: ``And prob'ly she wouldn't believe it. Anybody'd SAY they didn't own a dog like that! And that's what you want her to see, before she even gets inside the house! Instead of a regular gardener in livery like we ought to have, and a bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or something, the first things you want intelligent people from out of town to see are that awful old darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like as not lettin' 'em get on other people! THAT'd be nice, wouldn't it? Go out to tea expecting decent treatment and get fl--''
``WILLIE!''
Mrs. Baxter managed to obtain his attention.