“He say, ‘All de same, Polly Ann, I smells smoke.’
“I say, ‘Dat what Brer Fox say when Brer Rabbit put fire ter de hay what he totin’ on his back.’
“De Little Marster say, ‘Polly Ann, maybe somebody done put fire ter de hay what we got on our backs.’
“I say, ‘I ain’t skeer’d er dat.’
“Dis make him laugh. He say, ‘Polly Ann, folks don’t hafter be skeer’d ter git burnted up.’”
At this point Free Polly suddenly became very solemn. A heavy frown appeared on her face. Her voice fell to a tragic whisper. She placed one hand lightly on Sweetest Susan’s shoulder and held the other to a gesture of warning, looking all around the room as if expecting to discover the beginning or the ending of some horrible catastrophe.
“Right dar an den,” she said, “I not only smelt de smoke, I seed it. Seed it wid my own eyes. Yes, honey! A little streak un it, not much bigger dan a pipestem, come curlin’ up by de candle an’ went dancin’ up ter de ceilin’. Den’ way off yander, I hear somebody holler. Den somebody holler’d mo’ closer. Den de cows ’gun ter low, an’ de hosses ter whicker.
“I say ter myse’f, ‘Nigger ’oman, you better keep yo’ eye peeled, kaze sump’n n’er gwine on, an’ ’tain’t so mighty fur fum here, needer.’ Den I hear somebody holler right out in de lot dar.
“De Little Marster say, ‘Polly Ann, I tell you I smells smoke. Hit’s right off’n de fire.’