Magnus put whip to the animals, and they started afresh. Soon, in turning around toward the back of Mount Calm, they came to a group of negroes just starting to their work. Every man of them dropped his hat, and stood bowing, smiling, and grimacing at the sight of their young mistress. Magnus stopped the wagon.
“How are they all at the house, Uncle Bob?” he asked of the driver.
“All fus’ rate, sir! ’Deed dey is, Miss Elsie, honey.”
“Are you sure that mother is quite well, Bob?”
“’Deed, fus’ rate, Miss Elsie! ’Deed is her, honey!”
“How do you know, Uncle Bob? You never go to the house.”
“’Deed, honey, sister Milly told me; ’deed, honey, you needn’t be ’t all oneasy, nor likewise ’stress in your mind ’bout your ma! De madam is fus’ rate—’deed her is. Der wa’n’t nothin’ of no fuss, nuther, honey!—eberyting passed off quite quiet. Marse Iron he had some company las’ night, and ’joyed himself ’long o’ de gemmen very much.”
It is unnecessary to say that “Iron” was the negro corruption of Aaron, and not an unapt translation, either.
“And mother is well and cheerful?”
“High! what I tell you, Miss Elsie? Think I gwine to ax you a lie? De madam is fus’rate!”