“Dat same circus what Miss Polly used to be wid?” Mandy's eyes grew large with curiosity.
“De very same,” and Hasty nodded mysteriously.
“How you know dat?” Mandy was uncertain whether to believe him.
“'Cause da's a big, red wagon downtown wid de name ob de show painted on it. It's de advertisin' one what goes ahead wid all de pictures what dey pastes up.”
“And you been hangin' 'roun' dat wagon?”
“I done thought Miss Polly might want to know.”
“See here, lazy nigger, don' you go puttin' no circus notions into Miss Polly's head. She don' care no more 'bout dem things since her Uncle Toby done die. She done been satisfied right whar she am. Jes' you let her be.”
“I ain't done nothin',” Hasty protested.
“Nebber do do nothin',” growled Mandy. “Go long now, and get a-work. Mos' four o'clock and dat Sunday-school-room ain't ready yet.”
Hasty picked up the empty box and the step-ladder and went out through the gate. He had barely disappeared when a peal of laughter was heard from the hillside, and before Mandy could get out of the way, the youngsters came tumbling down the path again.