“Mistiss,” he said to Mildred when he found an opportunity, “did you shave master?”
“Why, what a ridiculous question!” she exclaimed. “How could I shave him? It makes me shiver merely to touch the razors.”
“Well, Mistiss,” Jesse insisted, “ef I ain’t shave him, en you ain’t shave him, den who de name er goodness is done gone en done it?”
“He shaved himself, of course,” Mildred said. “He is very much better this morning. I noticed it the moment I saw him. I should think you could see it yourself.”
“I seed somepin’ nuther wuz de matter,” said Jesse. “Somepin’ ’bleege’ ter be de matter when I put him ter bed las’ night des like he wuz a baby, ma’m, en now yer he is gwine roun’ des ez spry ez de nex’ one. Yessum, somepin’ ’bleege’ ter be de matter. Yistiddy his han’s wuz shakin’ same like he got de polzy, ma’m, en now yer he is shavin’ hisse’f; dat what rack my min’.”
“Well, I hope you are glad he is so well, Jesse,” said Mildred in an injured tone.
“Oh, yessum,” said Jesse, scratching his head. “Lor’, yessum. Dey ain’t nobody no gladder dan what I is; but it come on me so sudden, ma’m, dat it sorter skeer me.”
“Well, it doesn’t frighten me,” said Mildred. “It makes me very happy.”
“Yessum,” replied Jesse deferentially. He made no further comment; but after Mildred had gone to attend to her school duties he made it his business to keep an eye on the Judge, and the closer the negro watched, the more forcibly was he struck by the great change that a night had made in the old man.