“That was a fine visit, Martha—eh?” said George, looking at his sister for smiling approval.
“Yes, and I’ve been thinking, George, we ought to give our cousins just as good a time while they visit us here,” said the little girl.
“Oh, I’ve got it all planned out—you wait and see!” declared George.
“You have? Oh, you never said a word to me about it! Do tell me what it is.”
“Well, in the first place, we have to take them all over and introduce them to John Graham and his place,” said George, counting off the plan on his fingers.
“Uh-huh—and don’t forget Jim. We must introduce Jim, you know,” reminded Martha.
“Da’s right! Yo’ all jus’ cough when yo’ want’s me an’ Ah’ll pop right out. I’se hidin’ heah now whar mammy cain’t see me,” came a hoarse whisper from the Virginia creeper vine at the side of the porch.
“Oo-oh, you there, Jim—come out and let’s plan things,” called George, running over to drag out a seven-year-old pickaninny who was their constant shadow and general factotum,—especially so when there was mischief brewing, for Jim always was the scapegoat.
Jim resisted for a few moments, as he feared his mammy’s large, flat hand; but George assured him that as he was invited to be present at the reception of the city cousins it was all right with mammy.
“As I was telling Martha—we must plan some great fun for our cousins’ visit here, ’cause they gave us such a good time when we were little children,” explained George, now an old man past the age of ten.