“The truth of the matter is I can’t stop dancing. If I only had some quick music I could work to it. I wonder if Cinderella swept the hearth clean the morning after the ball. Mumsy, do you think the prince was there last night?” she asked.
“Prince! What prince?”
“Oh, just any old prince! Prince Charming! I think—in fact I am sure—I liked my Cousin Jeff Bucknor better than any of the men who danced with me.”
“Now, Judith, please don’t start up that foolishness. Jeff Bucknor may dance with you because everybody else wanted to, but he would 186 be very much astonished if he heard you calling him cousin.”
“Well, he heard me last night, but he started it. He wanted to boss me, because he said he was my nearest of kin. I just laughed at him and called out, ‘Good-bye, Cousin!’ Mr. Big Josh Bucknor almost claimed kin with me, too. Wouldn’t it be funny, Mumsy, if all of them got to doing it? It would be kind of nice to have some kinfolks who knew they were kin. I know you think I am conceited, but somehow I believe the men would be more pleased about it than the women. Maybe the women are afraid I’d take to visiting them like poor Cousin Ann!”
“Humph! Cousin Ann indeed!”
“But, Mumsy, she was real cousinish last night. There was a look in her eyes that made me feel that she was almost claiming relationship. She squeezed my hand in the quadrille, and when she came up to speak to me after the darling old men let the cat out of the bag about its being my debut party she was very near to kissing me.”
“Well, I don’t hold much to kissing strangers.”
Mother and daughter were on the side porch, engaged in various household duties, while this 187 desultory discussion was going on. Suddenly there appeared at the corner of the house old Uncle Billy. In his hand he carried a small package wrapped in newspaper. He bowed and bowed, wagging his head like a mechanical toy.
“You mus’ ’scuse me, ladies, fer a walkin’ up on you ’thout no warnin’, but I got a little comin’ out gif fer the young lady, if she don’t think ol’ Billy air too bold an’ resumtious. It air jes’ a bit er jewilry what air been, so’s ter speak, in my fambly fer goin’ on a hun’erd or so years. Ol’ Mis, the gran’maw er my Miss Ann—Miss Elizabeth Bucknor as was—gib it to ter my mammy fer faithfulness in time er stress. It were when smallpox done laid low the white folks an’ my mammy nuss ’em though the trouble when ev’ybody, white and black, wa’ so scairt they runned off an’ hid.”