“Gi’ me de hankcher,” said Mammy, with an air of withering contempt. “There, now, you done woke up your little brother,” she said, when, the nose being blown, she again returned to trying to jolt baby Joe to sleep. “He jest had drapped off into a doze.”
“Oh, chilluns, le’s pop some corn!” Chany now exclaimed. “Here’s a whole sight of it,” she went on, as she searched a basket, which she had unearthed from the closet.
“Oh! pop corn!” shouted Sedley and Sibyl, running, and each seizing an ear.
“Oh! pop torn!” echoed the cherub, throwing down her rag baby. So the shovel was run into the ashes, and Chany and the three little ones set to work to shell the corn.
Quiet was again restored, and Caroline, who, all through the hubbub, had kept her finger faithfully upon “island,” continued her reading.
Mammy now substituted a sideways movement of the knees for the more vigorous bumping of the chair, and baby Joe—lying luxuriously upon her wide lap—gazed dreamily into the glowing coals upon the hearth, until gradually the white lids drooped over the blue eyes, and he slept. The nursery was very quiet now. The corn-poppers were intent upon their work, and Mammy, soothed by the unwonted stillness, listened drowsily to the little reader until fresh interest was excited by the following words.
“The men were now still more alarmed,” read Caroline. “Farmer Lynn said that he would go with them and see what had become of Mr. Lynn and Annie. The whole party accordingly went back to the river. After searching about for some time, one of the men espied something black on the surface of the snow, at a great distance down the river. They all proceeded to the spot, and were dreadfully shocked on arriving there to find that the black spot was a part of Mr. Lynn’s arm and that his body was beneath, frozen, and buried up in the snow.”
When Mammy heard these words, she threw up her arms, and exclaimed, “Lord, have mercy ’pon my soul! What! Mr. Lynn hisself?”
To her imagination Mr. Lynn was a most real person. The book was now brought to her and she, with little Caroline, looked with deep and mournful interest at the picture of the empty sleigh.
“It certainly is a awful country to live in; seem like it ain’t fitten for a dog, much less white folks. To think o’ Mr. Lynn hisself bein’ froze to death. Well! well! well! It certainly was onexpected.”