“Why, Uncle Billy, I think you are too lovely to give it to me. But you ought to keep it.”
“Well, it ain’t ever been much use ter me, seein’ as I can’t wear a locket, but I reckon you mought hang it roun’ yo’ putty neck sometime.”
He took off the newspaper wrapping, disclosing a flat velvet box much rubbed and 188 soiled. Touching a spring the lid flew open, disclosing a large cameo of rare and intricate workmanship, with a gold filigree border and gold back.
“I’d like ter give it ter you, if you won’t be a thinkin’ it’s free-niggerish of me.”
“Why, I think it is perfectly lovely of you. It is a beautiful locket—the most beautiful I ever saw. See, Mumsy, I can put it on my little gold chain.”
“No doubt!” Mrs. Buck looked distrustfully at Billy, but the old man held himself so meekly and his manner was so respectful that her heart was somewhat softened.
“You sho’ air got a pleasant place here. I allus been holdin’ th’ain’t no place so peaceful an’ homelike as a shady side po’ch, with plenty er scrubbery an’ chickens a scratchin’ under ’em. I’d be proud to have a po’ch er my own, with a box er portulac a bloomin’ in front er it an’ plenty er nice red jewraniums sproutin’ ’roun’ in ol’ mattersies cans—but, you see, me’n Miss Ann air allus on the jump—what with all the invites we gits ter visitate.”
“Let me show you what a nice vegetable garden I have planted, Uncle Billy, and what a lovely well we have, with the coldest water in the county. Maybe you would like a drink of 189 cold water, or perhaps you would like some fresh buttermilk. I have just churned and the buttermilk is splendid,” said Judith.
“Thankee, thankee kindly, missy! I’s a great han’ fo’ buttermilk.” The old man followed Judith to the dairy and watched with admiring eyes as she dipped the creamy beverage from the great stone jar and poured it into a big glass mug.
“This was Grandfather Buck’s mug. He liked to drink buttermilk from it, but he always called it a schooner. That was his house, back there. He never lived in it after Grandfather Knight died, so my mother tells me, but we always have called it his house. It still has his furniture in it, but nobody stays there.”