It was not often that Uncle Remus had to search for the boys who had, in the course of a very long life, fallen under his influence. On the contrary, he had sometimes to plan to get rid of them when he had work of importance to do; but now, here he was in his old age searching all about for a little chap who wasn’t as big as a pound of soap after a hard day’s washing, as the old man had said more than once.
The child had promised to go with Uncle Remus to fetch a wagon-load of corn that had been placed under shelter in a distant part of the plantation, and though the appointed hour had arrived, and the carriage-horses had been hitched to the wagon, he had failed to put in an appearance.
Uncle Remus had asked the nurse, a mulatto woman from the city, where the child was, and the only reply she deigned to make was that he was all right. This nurse had been offended by Uncle Remus, who, on more than one occasion, had sent her about her business when he wanted the little boy to himself. She resented this and lost no opportunity to show her contempt.
All his other resources failing, Uncle Remus went to the big house and asked his Miss Sally. She, being the child’s grandmother, was presumed to know his whereabouts; but Miss Sally was not in a very good humor. She sent word that she was very busy, and didn’t want to be bothered; but before Uncle Remus could retire, after the message had been delivered, she relented. “What is it now?” she inquired, coming to the door.
“I wuz des huntin’ fer de little chap,” Uncle Remus replied, “an’ I ’lowed maybe you’d know whar he wuz at. We wuz gwine fer ter haul a load er corn, but he ain’t showed up.”
“Well, I made him some molasses candy—something I shouldn’t have done—and he has been put in jail because he wiped his mouth on his coat-sleeve.”
“In jail, ma’am?” Uncle Remus asked, astonishment written on his face.
“He might as well be in jail; he’s in the parlor.”
“Wid de winders all down? He’ll stifle in dar.”
The grandmother went into the house too indignant to inform Uncle Remus that she had sent the house-girl to open the windows under the pretense of dusting and cleaning. The old man was somewhat doubtful as to how he should proceed. He knew that in a case of this kind, Miss Sally could not help him. She had set herself to win over the young wife of her son, and she knew that she would cease to be the child’s grandmother and become the mother-in-law the moment her views clashed with those of the lad’s mother—and we all know from the newspapers what a terrible thing a mother-in-law is.