[Goes to window and looks out.] Hit am plumb dark! Old Santa Claus mus' be a-hitchin' up dem plow-mules o' hisn by dis time. My lan'! de white folks is havin' er good time, I 'low! [Goes to fire and sits on a stool.] Dem dolls, an' dem doll cheers, an' dem rollin'-pins in de show-winders is mighty fine. [Sighs, and continues meditatively.] Pow'ful scrumptious dey was! Dass de kin' o' C'ris'mus gif' whar ole Santa Claus gwine ter fotch ter all de white chillen in dis yer town in de mawnin'! Santa Claus ain't got no 'quaintance wid niggers, dat I knows on—lessen it am niggers on de sugar-plantations;—he ain't never hearn tell o' town niggers. My lan', whyn't de Lawd mek me white whilse He 'uz about it! Hit mus' be jes' ez easy fer de Lawd ter mek er white chile ez er black chile! [Rests her head disconsolately on her knees for a moment. Suddenly, as a great idea dawns upon her, she lifts her head and claps her hands.] Hi! I got it! [Springs to her feet and begins to dance a double-shuffle with all her might, shouting.] Sho's you bawn, I'ze gwine ter do it! I'ze gwine ter mek m'se'f er white chile! I'ze gwine ter do it, sho'!
[In the midst of her wild dance, Alphonse
appears in doorway, and stands transfixed
with horror.
Alph. [furiously]. Bête! Wat you do here, in M'sieu Henri LeBreton's room? Ah'm a-goin' to keel you! [He darts after, and they dash about the room at top speed, Minty-Malviny always just out of his reach.]
M.-M. I ain' 'fraid o' no French nigger lak you! [She leads him a dance, but finally rushes out at door. Alphonse recovers his dignity, and goes to attend to fire. Minty-Malviny appears before door again, walking up and down with mincing steps and singing with a meaning air.]
M.-M.
De yallergater ax fer de jack-o'lantern's light,
Walk jes' so!
Fer to go ter see his gal thoo' de swamp in de night,
Walk jes' so!
[Alphonse listens, rattles irons angrily, then
runs to door with poker in hand. Minty-Malviny
promptly takes to her heels.
Alph. "Walk jes' so!" An' if you don't walk jes' so, I'll show you how, gamine! [Goes about arranging room for the night. Lays LeBreton's dressing-gown and slippers by the fire, puts out candles on mantel, then goes to dresser, where he pauses to admire himself. Minty-Malviny slips in, a small brown paper bag in one hand and a very ragged stocking in the other. She hides behind the easy-chair, but manages to keep a sharp eye on Alphonse, with scornful mouth, for his vanity. Alphonse struts complacently before the glass, moistens his handkerchief with his master's cologne, puts out the candles, goes to table, where he helps himself to the cigars, puts out light, and exit. Minty-Malviny comes out from hiding-place, makes sure he is really gone, and relights candles.]
M.-M. [with deep scorn]. Dar! I knowed dat French nigger 'u'd steal! I gwine ter tell on him in de mawnin' de minit I get er chance. [Sits down on her heels before the fire, screwing up her mouth and chuckling with glee.] Now, now, I'ze gwine ter mek myse'f inter er white chile. [Opens bag in which she carries a dab of flour, with which she proceeds to powder her face as liberally as the bag allows. Then she produces the stocking and examines it with care.] Co'se hit's holey, but den Santa Claus kin stuff er gob er candy er sumpn in de toe-hole, an' er bannanner, er o'ange, in de heel-hole, and some reesins er a'mon's in de res' o' de holes. [She gets up to hang the stocking.] Hump! dis is sump'n lak a chimbly, dis is! Santa Claus ain' gwine ter hu't hisse'f comin' down a stovepipe. Some white folks is funny. [She catches sight of herself in the mirror above the mantel.] My lan'! Kingdom come! I is tu'ned inter er white chile, sho'! An' ole Santa Claus gwine ter be fooled, sho' as I is er nigger!... Now I gwine ter scrooch down on de rug hyar an' watch. [Settles herself comfortably.] I gwine ter hol' my eyes open [yawns aloud] ontwel I see ole Santa Claus crope down dis yer chimbly. Den I gwine ter ax him howdy, an' den I gwine ter p'int out what I bleedge ter hev fer C'ris'mus. Ca'se I ain' gwine ter be er white chile fer nuffin. [This with some energy, but she grows more and more drowsy.] I gwine ter ax fer er wax doll lak whar in der show-winder, an' er cheer, an' er cradle—— [Minty-Malviny falls asleep.]
[After a moment, enter LeBreton, quietly.
Turns on light, goes to dresser, sets down
hat, and drawing off gloves, tosses them
into it. Crosses to fire, and sees Minty-Malviny.
Stirs her gently with his foot.