"You kin go on back now, ef you wants to," she chuckled.
"Why, I thought something awful was about to happen!"
"So dar wuz sumfin awful 'bout to happen, an' happenin'," the old woman laughed. "But I done put de squee-gee on dat! I hyeerd de fracas, an' hyeerd what he uz sayin', an' knowed jest 'bout how-cum 'twuz."
"Oh, Aunt Timmie," the girl impulsively cried, "if everyone had your good heart!"
"Mah heart ain' nuthin' to brag on, chile. I jest happen to know dat in dis worl' dey's wicked people dat'll stoop deeper'n sin fer a dime; an' dey's onery people, so mis'ably onery, dat's afeerd to call dey soul dey own; an' dar's still anurr kind what ain' had no trainin', so when a stylish gemman comes 'long dey's mighty apt to go wrong, 'caze dey ain' had a faih show. Now, I reckon, I most named all de fambly;—I ain' sayin' what fambly, but I is sayin' dat ole Timmie knows moh'n most pussons reckons she do. 'Sides dat, she kin find moh 'xcuses in her heart den de worl' kin. Run 'long, now! I jest stepped in 'caze a li'l gal warn't gittin' a faih show!"
"Oh, Aunt Timmie," the girl cried, "I ain't bad! But that beast wouldn't care, if he could make them pay more for his farm!"
A strangely beautiful light swept across the wrinkled face.
"Look up at me, chile, an' say dat fu'st agin!"
Nancy raised her flushed cheeks and gazed into the age-marked eyes of her black inquisitor. Then slowly she repeated:
"I ain't bad, Aunt Timmie!"