“Wall dis yere time yo’s gwine deal wid a nigger, an’ yo’s gwine do lak she say. Dis yere comp’ny ’sures de Carruth house an’ eve’y last t’ing what’s inside it, an’ de policy yo’ say ’s gotter be settled up when it’s gotter be, or de hul t’ing ’ll collapse? Now Miss Jinny ain’t never is had no dealin’s wid yo’, case I don’ let her have dealin’s wid no white trash—I handles dat sort when it has ter be handled—an’ I keeps jist as far f’om it as ever I kin while I handles it. But I’se gotter settle up dis policy fer de fambly so what is it? How much is I gotter pay yo’?”
The varying expressions passing over Mr. Sniffins’ countenance during Mammy’s speech would have delighted an artist.
“What er? What er? What er you telling me?” he stammered.
“De ain’t no ‘watter’ ’bout it; it’s fire, an’ I done come ter settle up,” asserted Mammy.
“Have you brought the necessary papers with you? Have we a record in this office?”
“Don’ know nuffin’ ’tall ’bout no papers nor no records. Jist knows dat Miss Jinny’s insured fer $15,000,” said Mammy, causing the youth confronting her to open his eyes. “Dis hyer letter what she done wrote dis mawn’in tells all ’bout it I ’spec’. She tol’ me pos’ it ter de comp’ny an’ I reckons yo’ll do fer de comp’ny dis time when de time’s pressin’ an’ der ain’t nuffin’ better ter han’.”
The contempt in Mammy’s tone was tangible, as she held the letter as far from her as possible. Mr. Sniffins took it, noted the address and broke the seal. When he had read the letter he said with no little triumph in his voice:
“But in this letter Mrs. Carruth says distinctly that she is not prepared to pay the sum which falls due day after to-morrow, and asks for an extension of time. I am not prepared to make this extension. That’s up to the company,” and he held the letter toward Mammy as though he washed his hands of the whole affair.
Mammy did not take it. Instead she said very much as she would have spoken to a refractory child who was not quite sure of what he could or could not do: “La Honey, don’ yo’ ’spose I sensed dat long go? Co’se I knows yo’ cyant do nuffin’ much; yo’s only a lil’ boy, an’ der cyant no boy do a man’s wo’k. Yo’s hyer fer ter tek in de cash, an’ so dat’s what I done come ter pay. Miss Jinny she done mek up her mine dat she better pay dat policy dan use de money fer frolic’in’. I reckons yo’ can tek cyer of it an’ sen’ it long down yonder whar de big comp’ny ’s at. Dat’s all I want yo’ ter do, so now go ’long an’ git busy an’ do it. Dere’s thirty dollars; count it so’s yo’s suah. Den write it all out crost de back ob Miss Jinny’s letter so’s I have sumpin fer ter show dat it’s done paid.”
“But I’ll give you a regular receipt for the amount,” said the clerk, now eager to serve a customer whose premium represented so large a policy.