“Do you ever see your daughter?”
At this question the small black eyes snapped, and the haggard woman started.
“Don’t say that, mister, please; ’cause nobody knows.
“Yes, I see her twice a week. She has a beautiful home and for the sake of old times she has me come and clean her room twice a week. She says I do it so much better than her regular servants. Oh, mister, you don’t know how long and faithful I work in that room.”
“And the other little girl; her first baby?”
“Oh, the kid?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you see, I’m trying to raise her right, for now you see I know right from wrong. She is nearly ten. A year ago a drunken man came down here and brought a monkey. He mistreated it so that it bit him and broke away. It ran to the kid and nothing could get it to leave, so the man told her to keep it, and he took rather a fancy to her in his drunken way and took her up town and bought her an organ. From that on we lived real well, but during the first cold snap the fire went out one night and when we got up ‘Pranks’ was froze to death. Since then she has begged a ‘right smart.’”
“Does she ever see her mother?”
“Sometimes; not often, though, mister. I took her with me onct jes’ after the coal oil man’s little girl died and his wife give me all her clothes, ’cause she said I’d been there and helped so much. So I kind a dressed the little one up and took her over, and while I worked she played with her—I mean with the other children, and when I got ready to start home I like to never got her to come. She cried most all night, so I don’t take her no more, but she’s gone over there now. I was over there today and done the cleaning and the ‘lady’ (that’s what I always call her) said if I would send the little one over she would give her a suit or two of her older girl’s underclothes. You see her girl’s younger than the kid, but she’s fatter, so I guess they’ll fit. Lord, I wish she’d come, mister, for now I’ve told you all and you’ll be goin’ and it’ll be awful lonesome here.”