"Yas'm, but he ain' in his min' an' wouldn't know me no how, but dese hyer chillerns is ALL got dey min's cl'ar, an' dey STUMMICKS empty. No'm, I knows yo' means it kindly an' so I teks hit, but I knows ma juty," and nothing Peggy could say had any effect.
That night Joshua died. The word came to Severndale early the following morning.
"Well," said Mrs. Harold, "from her philosophical resignation to the situation yesterday, I don't imagine she will be greatly overcome by the news."
"Mh—um," was Mammy's non-committal lip-murmur, and Peggy wagged her head. Mrs. Harold and Polly were spending the week at Severndale, and were dressing for breakfast. Their rooms communicated with Peggy's and they had been laughing and talking together when the 'phone message came.
"Mammy," called Peggy. "Please send word right down to Minervy."
"Yas, baby, I sends it, and den yo' watch out," warned Mammy.
"What for?" asked Peggy.
"Fo' dat 'oman. She gwine mak one fuss DIS time ef she never do again."
"Nonsense, Mammy, I don't believe she cares one straw anyway. She is the most unfeeling creature I've ever seen."
"She may be ONfeelin' but she ain' ON-doin', yo' mark me," and Mammy went off to do as she was bidden.