“I hardly ever do talk about them. When I do it is to Aunt Betty, and then I say the new doll, or the doll with the brown hair, or something of that kind. Don’t let’s play with dolls. I bet you can’t catch me before I get downstairs.” And while Jessie was recovering herself Adele was off and away down the stairs at the foot of which she stood laughing as Jessie descended more slowly. “I think I shall ask Angeline for some cakes,” she said. “Come along into the kitchen. I suppose that cross old Roxy wouldn’t give us any, but I can coax Angeline into anything. Angeline! Angeline!” she called imperiously, “come here.”
Angeline appeared at the entry door. “I want some cakes,” said Adele, “some for Jessie and me. We’re hungry.”
“Dey ain’ no mo’ cakes, honey,” said Angeline. “Yo done eat ’em all up.”
“Then make some right away, or tell Roxy she’s got to do it.”
“Roxy she done gone to de sto’.”
“Oh, bother! You go along and make some, and be quick about it, too,” ordered Adele.
“Law, honey chile, how long yuh spec’ it tek to mek up de fiah an’ bake cake? Yuh foolish, chile. I done got some sweet ertaters in de ashes,” she hastened to say as she saw Adele’s face puckering up for a cry. “I tell yuh what, honey; I git yuh two nice bowls o’ milk an’ nice sweet ertaters an’ yuh kin tek ’em out in de summah-house an’ eat ’em.”
“I suppose that will have to do,” said Adele with resignation. “Do you like sweet potatoes and milk?” she asked Jessie.
“I never ate any. At least, of course I have eaten sweet potatoes often enough and I drink milk, but I never ate them together.”
“They are mighty good together,” Adele assured her. “Bring ’em along, Angeline, to the summer-house, and don’t you be forever about it either.” And Adele stalked off with Jessie in her wake.