“I neber see him agin. He wuz killed way down in ole Kaintuck. He turned ugly aftah bein’ tuck from us, an’ den he wuz whipped, an’ he grew weak an’ homesick for us an’ his ole home. An’ den dey whip him moah to meck him wuck.
“And he daid off one day right when dey wuz a lashin’ him up. Didn’t see he wuz daid, kep’ on a whippin’ his cole daid body.”
Here Aunt Mela sunk down in a chair and covered her face in a corner of her apron, and rocked to and fro.
And I hain’t ashamed to say that I took out my white linen handkerchief and cried with her.
But pretty soon Aunt Mela wiped her eyes, adjusted her glasses agin, and went about her preparations for dinner.
And I jest hurried out of the kitchen, for my heart wuz full, full and runnin’ over.
And I gin her that very afternoon a bran new gingham apron, chocolate and white checks, all made up and trimmed acrost the bottom with as many as seven rows of white braid.
And I didn’t give her that apron a thinkin’ it would make up for the loss of her companion—no, indeed! What would store clothes be to me to take the place of my Josiah?
But I gin it to her to show my friendliness to her and to show her that I liked her, and to remind her that after she had been tosted and tore by the ragin’ billows she had got into a good harbor now, and a well-meanin’ one.
So I gin her the apron.