“I ’low’d maybe you’d git tired an’ come back, suh; an’ so I des let dinner sorter simmer whiles I got dish yer baby ter sleep. I dunner how you all does in Atlanty, but down here we has soon dinner. Dem what wanter kin have two meals a day, but dem what does sho ’nuff work better eat three. Me! I want three, whedder I works er not.”
The baby stirred, and Aunt Minervy paused. At that moment a group of men, wearing badges, passed by, evidently officials of the fair going to dinner. They were evidently engaged in a very earnest discussion.
“I’m for Conant,” said one, with considerable emphasis.
“Oh, so am I,” assented another. “When Jim told me this morning that he was a candidate for the Legislature, I told him flat and plain that I was for Paul Conant.”
“That’s right,” remarked a third. “We want a man there with some business sense, and Conant’s the man.”
Aunt Minervy Ann laughed. “Ef de Legislatur’ up dar in Atlanty is like it wuz when I b’long’d ter it, dey can’t drag Marse Paul in dar; no, suh! dey can’t drag him in dar.”
Amazement must have shown in my face, for Aunt Minervy Ann immediately became solemn. “Ain’t you never hear tell ’bout my j’inin’ de Legislatur’? You may look an’ you may laugh, but dat don’t wipe out de trufe. Dey wuz a time when I jined de Legislatur’ an’ when I b’long’d ter de gang same ez Hamp did. You don’t ’spute but what Hamp b’long’d ter de Legislatur’, suh?” asked Aunt Minervy Ann, anxious to make out the title of her own membership. No, I didn’t dispute Hamp’s credentials. He had been elected and he had served.
“I know’d you couldn’t ’spute dat, suh,” Aunt Minervy Ann went on, “’kaze you wuz down dar when dey choosen’d ’im, an’ you wuz dar when dem ar white folks come mighty nigh ku-kluckin’ ’im; you wuz right dar wid Marse Tumlin an’ Marse Bolivar. I never is ter fergit dat, suh, ner Hamp nudder; an’ ef you don’t b’lieve it, you des sen’ us word you want us. Ef we git de word at midnight we’ll git up, an’ ef de railroad track is tore up we’ll git a waggin, an’ ef we can’t git a waggin, we’ll walk, but what we’ll come.”
“Well,” said I, “tell us about your joining the Legislature.”
“I may be long in tellin’ it, suh, but ’tain’t no long tale,” replied Aunt Minervy Ann. “Atter Hamp come up here an’ tuck his seat—dat what dey call it den, ef dey don’t call it dat now—well, atter he come up an’ been here some little time, I tuck notice dat he ’gun ter hol’ his head mighty high; a little too high fer ter suit me. He want me ter go up dar wid ’im an’ stay dar, ’kaze he sorter skittish ’bout comin’ home when dem country boys mought be hangin’ ’roun’ de depot. But I up an’ tol’ ’im flat an’ plain dat I wa’n’t gwine ter leave Miss Vallie an’ let er’ git usen ter strange niggers. I tol’ ’im he mought go an’ stay ef he want ter, but de fus’ week he miss comin’ home, I wuz gwine atter ’im, an’ ef I fotch ’im home he won’t go back in a hurry; I tol’ ’im dat, flat an’ plain.