"Oh, yes, and so does Mr. Singleton, who has a fine business; but my girls! they drive me wild."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I answered, not sympathizing with her very much, for she was the very picture of health and comfort of life.
"Yes; they say we left slavery in Mississippi to make slaves of them here, and indeed it is like it in many ways. For they have to be taught to wash and iron and cook, just as they were taught music when little things; and not knowing how, their hands are skinned by the washboard and burned by hot irons until they are a sight to see."
"That's too bad."
"Yes; but they are getting on better now, though they manage in one way and another to put most of the work on poor Betty."
"How does Miss Betty like that?" I asked, glad of the reference because of my fondness for her.
"She says she doesn't care, and that in time she will be the best cook in the state."
"There's always one worker in every family, they say," I answered.
"Oh, the others like to work, though not to cook; but it is said, you know, that the acorn that doesn't sprout the pigs eat, and so what one of the dear things lacks, the others make up for," she answered, with a good deal of pride.
"That's true, I'm sure; but haven't you any wish to go back to Mississippi?" I asked, to encourage her to talk.