"Fust t'ing yo' roll up yo' sleeve es high as yo' kin, en yo' tak soap en yo' wash yo' han' clean. Den you wash yo' pot clean, fill um wid col' wata en put on de fia. Now w'ile yo' wata de bile, yo' put yo' rice een a piggin en yo' wash um well, den when yo' dun put salt een yo' pot, en 'e bile high, yo' put yo' rice een, en le' um bile till 'e swell, den yo' pour off de wata, en put yo' pot back o' de stove, for steam."
I was so impressed with the opening sentences that I determined at once to let him cook my Sunday dinner instead of eating it cold, but when I told Chloe she was filled with indignation.
"Miss Pashuns, if I neber eat rice again I won't eat rice Goliah cook! But den I'se bery scornful!"
Fanning and pounding rice for household use.
August 29.
Chloe and Patty went to the funeral "sarmint," and it was grand. The eulogies of the departed were satisfactory to all. They left in the buckboard at 10 o'clock and returned at dusk, the church being six miles away. When I asked what the preacher said about Elsa, Chloe answered:—
"'E set um high, but eberybody groan an' say amen to ebery wud. Fust t'ing 'e say she wus a fair'oman; what 'e had to say 'e say to yo' face. She wusn't tale bearer, she wusn't 'struction maker. She wus a stewardness of de chutch en always fait'ful. She house wus a place fo' de preecher en de elda' to fin' a home w'en eber dey kum. En de feebla' en de olda' she husband git, de mo' she was 'evoted to him; nobody neber hear um say she tyad, nite en day she nuss um; she was a wirtue to im, en a sample to de yung womens."
I could not help thinking Solomon could not say more for the woman whose value he set above rubies.