January chuckled, and, before driving on, he said: "I tole yo' so, Missy Beth."
Marian laughed until she was tired. "Beth, if you are drawn up inside the way your face is outside, it must be terrible."
"It is. It is." But she did not receive any sympathy. Even Mr. Davenport laughed at her. He had told her not to have January get them, but she had insisted on having her own way.
"Beth," he said, "I hope this may teach you a lesson. You must not taste things that you know nothing about."
Her mouth was still so drawn up that she did not care to do any more tasting—at least, not for the present. When she thought nobody was looking, she let the rest of the persimmons roll out of the carriage.
"What do they all do?" asked Beth as the carriage came to a standstill, and she noted the waiting negroes. As January helped her out, he chuckled, and swelled visibly with pride. "Dey all work for us, Missy Beth. She's de boss," he added in a low tone pointing to the colored woman with the bandanna. "Dat's Maggie; yo'd bettah make up with her."
[Illustration: Maggie, a typical old-time mammy.]
The darkies courtesied. Their manners were of the old school. Beth ran up to Maggie.