But an interruption came before Mrs. Wilson could begin the story, the more loved because it was old and well known. The front gate clicked. Patsy glanced toward it and, seeing a negro girl standing there, exclaimed in surprise, “Why, there’s Lou Ellen!�
“Go to the side gate, Lou Ellen,� Mrs. Wilson said sharply. “What do you mean by coming the front way?�
“I ain’t comin’ in,� said Lou Ellen, in a pert, high voice, as she lounged on the gate. “I jest come to de store an’ stopped to leave you a message, Miss Agnes. I was comin’ down de mill path an’ a man—I reckon he was Van—hollered to me an’ said Mr. Black Mayo say for you please’m to go an’ spen’ de night wid Miss Polly. He got to go ’way an’ she was feelin’ sort o’ puny, an’ he didn’t want to left her at home by herse’f.�
“It’s strange he didn’t tell me when he was in The Village to-day,� said Mrs. Wilson. “Van told you, you say?�
“It sounded like Van,� answered Lou Ellen. “He was in de woods an’ I didn’t see him good.�
She tossed her head and strolled away.
“She’s a horrid thing!� said Ruth.
“How could she help it?� asked Alice. “Her mother, Louviny, is as trifling as she can be, and so is her father, Lincum; and his father is that horrid old Solomon Gabe that they call a trick doctor; all the other darkies are afraid of him.�
“Darkies are queer things,� laughed Patsy. And then she told what Emma had said about the draft.
“She isn’t the only one who believes that,� said Alice. “Unc’ Isham told father he’d heard tell they are all going to be put back in slavery; he said they always told him if the Democrats got strong in power, they would make the darkies slaves again.�