“We wuz off gettin’ plums, I speck,” replied Drusilla.
“Why, there were no plums to get,” said the lady.
“Well, ’m, ef ’t wa’n’t plums, hit must ’a’ been hick’y nuts,” explained Drusilla.
“Hickory nuts were not ripe, stupid.”
“Maybe dey wa’n’t,” said Drusilla stolidly; “but dat don’t hinder we chilluns from huntin’ ’em.”
“You know you didn’t go after hickory nuts, Drusilla,” the lady insisted. “Now I want you to tell me where you and the children went. I’ll not be angry if you tell me, but if you don’t”—
Drusilla could infer a good deal from the tone of the lady’s voice, but she shook her head.
“Well, ’m,” she said, “we went down dar by de spring, an’ down dar by de spring branch, an’ all roun’ down dar. Ef we warn’t huntin’ plums ner hick’y nuts, I done fergot what we wuz huntin’.”
Drusilla seemed so much in earnest that the lady didn’t push the inquiry, but when she went into another room for a moment, the negro girl looked after her and remarked to herself:—
“I done crossed my heart dat I wouldn’t tell, an’ I ain’t gwine ter. Ef I wuz ter tell, she wouldn’t b’lieve me, an’ so dar ’t is!”