“Why Mammy, I don’t know of anything that Eleanor is better qualified to do than coach. And Mammy, dear, we must do something—every one of us, I fear. We can not all live on the small interest I now have, and I shall never touch the principal if I can possibly avoid doing so. Eleanor can materially help by entering upon this work, and Constance has already shown that she can aid also. Even Baby has helped,” added Mrs. Carruth, laying her arm caressingly across Jean’s shoulders, for Jean had stuck to her side like a burr.
“Then you will let me go to East Riveredge with the candy?” cried Jean, quick to place her entering wedge.
“We will see,” replied Mrs. Carruth, but Jean knew from the smile that the day was won.
“I know all dat, honey,” resumed Mammy, “but dis hyer coachin’ bisness. I ain’ got dat settle in my mind. Hit just pure scandal’zation ’cordin’ ter my thinkin’. Gawd bress my soul what we-all comin’ to when a Blairsdale teken ter drive a nomnibus fer a livin’? Tck! Tck!” and Mammy collapsed upon a chair to clasp her hands and groan.
Then light dawned upon the family.
“Oh, Mammy! I don’t intend to become a stage-coach driver,” cried Eleanor, dropping upon her knees beside the perturbed old soul, and laying her own hands upon the clasped ones as she strove hard not to laugh outright. “You don’t understand at all, Mammy. A coach is someone who helps other students who can’t get on well with their studies. Who gives an hour or two each day to such work. And it is very well paid work, too, Mammy.”
Mammy looked at her incredulously as though she feared she was being made game of. Then she glanced at the others. Their faces puzzled her, as well they might, since the individuals were struggling to repress their mirth lest they wound the old woman’s feelings, but still were anxious to reassure her.
“Miss Jinny, is dat de solemn prar-book truf?”
“It surely is Mammy. We are not quite so degenerate as you think us,” answered Mrs. Carruth soberly, although her eyes twinkled in spite of her.
“Well! Well! Jes so; Jes so. I sutin’ly is behine de times. I speck I ain’ unnerstan dese yer new-fangled wo’ds no mor’n I unnerstan de new-fangled stoves. If coachin’ done tu’ned ter meanin’ school marmin’ I hatter give up. Now go on wid yo’ talkin’: I gwine tek a back seat an’ listen twell I knows sumpin’,” and, wagging her head doubtingly, Mammy went back to her hassock.