‘Dar now, dat’s jes’ wonderful!’ exclaimed the crowd of dusky mortals, who had anxiously watched her proceedings, ‘dat babby jes’ dyin’, ’pears as though death was in its face, and its body cold and stiff a’ready, and Missy Liz comes ’long and touches it, and it’s as well as ever in half an hour. Missy Liz, you too clever! You like de Lord, Who touches with little finger, and ebberybody well again. You jes’ white angel, Missy Liz—no mistake about dat.’
‘My dear friends, you make too much of my poor services for you. You could all do nearly as much for yourselves, if you would only let me teach you. Mammy Chloe made her baby sick. She says she gave it some sweet potato yesterday.’
‘Only tiny leetel bit, Missy Liz, out ob my own mouth!’ cried the mother.
‘However little it was, Chloe, it was too much for a baby of three days old. How often must I tell you to give your little infants nothing but the breast? Your baby is safe again now, but if you feed her with potatoes, and rice, and bread, she will have another fit, and next time I may be able to do nothing for her.’
Hereupon rose a chorus of dissentient voices.
‘Oh, Missy Liz, how you saying dat? You can cure ebberyting, Missy Liz. You mended Dicky’s arm, and cured old Jake’s rheumatiz, and bringed de life back to Clairey, when she fell into de water, and was dead.’
‘No, no!’ disclaimed Lizzie, laughing, ‘she wasn’t dead, Betsy. I can’t go as far as to bring the dead to life again.’
‘B’lieve you could, Missy Liz, if you tried, for you’se jes’ wonderful all round; and de niggers nebber had a better friend—dat’s so.’
‘Ay, Massa Courcelles say dat last night, Auntie Bell. He say Massa Courtney and de other planters dam bad trash, and better out ob de way; but nobody must hurt Missy Liz, because she’s de niggers’ friend, and lub ’em jes’ like herself.’
‘Monsieur de Courcelles!’ echoed Lizzie, thinking the negress had made some mistake. ‘How could he have said that last night? He is not in San Diego.’