"Well, den, please, ma'am, tell me just 'zactly what it IS."
This was a poser. Minervy knew no more of telling time than one of her own children, but rising from her chair, she said:
"I 'clar ter goodness, I'se done shed so many tears in ma sorrer and grief over Joshua dat I sho' is a-loosin' ma eyesight." She then went close to the clock, looked long and carefully at it, but shook her head doubtfully. At length a bright idea struck her and turning to Cynthia she announced:
"Why, Sis' Cynthia, I believes yo' tryin' ter projec' wid me; dat clock don' STRIKE 'TALL. But I 'clar I mus' be a-humpin' masef todes dera chillern. I shore mus'."
"Yes, I'd 'vise it pintedly," asserted Cynthia, while Mammy Lucy added:
"It's sprisin' how some folks juties slips dey min's."
Three days later word came to Severndale that Joshua could hardly survive the day and Peggy, as she felt duty bound, went over to Minervy's cabin. She found her sitting before her fire absolutely idle.
"Minervy," she began, "I have had word from the hospital and Joshua is not so well. I think you would better go right over."
"Yas'm, yas'm, Miss Peggy, I spec's yo' sees it dat-a-way, honey, but— but yo' sees de chillern dey are gwine car'y on scan'lus if I leaves 'em. My juty sho' do lie right hyer, yas'm it sho' do."
"But Minervy, Joshua cannot live."