“Those pigeons keep him on the go, don’t they?� said Anne.
Mrs. Osborne answered only with a smile. “Come, dear; sit down,� she said. “Stay to dinner.�
“No, thank you, Cousin Polly. We want to can a lot of butterbeans to-day,� said Anne. “I’ll just run to the kitchen and say ‘howdy’ to Chrissy; I haven’t seen her for a long time.�
Anne went to the kitchen, which, according to Village custom, was a cabin back of the dwelling house, and stopped at the door.
“Well, Chrissy, how are you?� she said pleasantly.
The old woman, usually good-humored and talkative, turned a glum face toward her young visitor. “Uh! I ain’t nothin’ to-day,� she groaned. “’Scuse me a minute, Miss Anne. I got to git a dish out de dinin’ room.� She went out of the back kitchen door and took the long way around to the house.
“Goodness, Chrissy!� Anne said when she came back. “Why did you go that roundabout way? Why didn’t you come out this door?�
Chrissy looked around, and then said in a cautious undertone, “Miss Anne, dat doorstep’s cunjered.�
“Cunjered!� laughed Anne.
“Cunjered,� Chrissy repeated solemnly. “Solomon Gabe was here yestiddy. He tol’ Miss Polly he come to bring her shoes dat Lincum patched, but I knows better. He come grumblin’ an’ mumblin’ ’roun’ here; an’ he was puttin’ a spell on dat step, dat’s what he was doin’.�