“Oh, I so glad to see you,” she cried, “I can’t tell you how glad I is. You mos’ done grown. ’Fo’ I know it you’ll be done grown an’ married. Hey-hey! You nee’n ter laugh. I done see young people ’fo’ I see you. Dey mos’ all do dat away.”
“Aunt Polly,” said Buster John, “do you remember the night the big house burned?”
Free Polly ceased laughing and screwed up her mouth and face in pretended indignation.
“How I gwine ter fergit it? Wa’n’t I right dar in de house? Right un’ de roofness?”
“Won’t you please tell us about it?” asked Sweetest Susan, with her pretty, coaxing smile.
Free Polly shook her head solemnly, closed her eyes, and heaved a deep sigh.
“How kin I tell you stan’in’ up here flat-footed in de sun? Wait. I comin’ in de house atter supper to see Mistiss. When you see me in dar, run an’ ax me to come in yo’ room ’fo’ I go. But when I go in dar I mus’ fin’ sump’n else ’sides a cheer, an’ a table, an’ a bedstid, an’ a washstan’.”
“What do you want to find?” Buster John inquired.
Again Free Polly closed her eyes and sighed, as she answered:—
“What I want to fin’? Biscuit. Battercakes. Butter. Ham.” At each word Free Polly smacked her lips and opened her mouth wide. The children laughed, and promised that they would carry as much food into the nursery as they could make an excuse for.