The children’s story books furnished Mammy with many thoughts. Among them was a set of German nursery tales, full of quaint colored pictures, in which she took especial pleasure. Seated by the nursery fire, the baby asleep in his crib and the others out at play, she would turn the leaves feeling that each picture was a living portrait. Slovenly Peter, Rocking Phillip, and Greedy Jacob were her favorites. Once when shown a pretzel, she exclaimed, “Ef it ain’t the very thing what Jacob had in his hand when he busted,” and, taking the pretzel in her hand, she contemplated it with a thoughtful and sentimental air.
The nursery door was now burst open, and in rushed Harry, bringing with him a blast of fresh cold air; black Ned came too, and both brought upon their feet enough snow to cover the carpet with moist tracks.
“You Ne-Ne-Ned, ain’t you got no mo’ manners than to be a-tracking up de house dis way? Go ’long out and clean your feet;” but the hubbub was too great for Mammy’s words to be heeded; pig-tails were being brandished aloft, and the children all clustered round Harry and Ned, asking questions and clamoring for pig-tails.
“Look!” said Harry. “Here’s somefin better’n pig-tails,” and he drew from his pocket the mangled remains of a dozen or more snow-birds.
A scramble now ensued, and Sibyl—having secured as many as she wanted—retired to a corner, and silently fell to plucking them, while Sedley, who was as vainglorious as a Comanche, capered about on his short legs, and boasted of imaginary exploits with trap and dead-fall.
Caroline looked on, half pleased and half disgusted, keeping herself clear of contact.
“Miss Calline she too proud to tetch pig-tails,” grinned Chany.
“’F cose she is,” Mammy answered, bridling. She was very vain of Miss Caroline’s daintiness.
The baby was now laid in his crib. Chany was dispatched for salt and pepper; the shovel was again run into the ashes, pig-tails were placed delicately upon the coals, and the nursery, pervaded with the various odors of wet shoes, burnt corn, fried grease, etc., was given up to disorder and cooking, into which Mammy threw herself with as much zest as did the children. The pig-tails were broiled to a turn, and the small birds were frizzling away upon the shovel, when Sedley, taking advantage of his opportunity, made a rush for the door, opened it, and was outside, with mouth and hands full of snow. Before Mammy’s vigilant eye had noted his escape, he was flying back in triumph, with a big ball in his fist, when she met him and, with dexterous grasp, wrenched it from him.
“Di-di-did anybody ever see your match!” she exclaimed as she hurled the ball into the fire. “I clar I’s got a good mind to take you right straight to your ma.”