“Yes, I’ve heern tell on you,” said the old woman, shortly.
“And no good either, I’ll be bound!” said Pet.
“Well, no; sence you say it I never did hear any good of him,” said the old woman, taking out a huge snuff-box, and composedly helping herself to a pinch.
“What did you hear about me, mother?” said Ray, laughing, as he shook his curly black locks.
“Well, I heard you was a noisy, disagreeable, fightin’ character; allus a-kickin’ up a row with somebody, and forever a-tormentin’ of that nice young gentleman, Master Ranty Lawless, who is a brother of that little yeller gal over there, and worth a dozen like her!” said the little old woman, with asperity.
“Well, upon my word, if that ain’t polite, not to say complimentary,” said Pet, drawing a long breath. “‘Little yeller gal!’ Good gracious!”
“Well, you ain’t white, you know,” said the old woman—who, whatever her other infirmities might be, was certainly not deaf. “You’re rayther of the tawniest, as everybody what’s got eyes can see for themselves. It’s a pity you ain’t good-looking, like your brother Ranty; I don’t think I ever saw a prettier young man nor he is, in my life.”
“Why, you hateful old thing!” burst out Pet, indignantly; losing all her customary respect for old age in these unflattering remarks. “I ain’t tawny; and I am pretty—I just am! and I’m not going to believe anybody that says anything else. If you and everybody else think I’m ugly, it’s all your bad taste! Ranty prettier than me! Likely story!” said Pet, between contempt and indignation.
“Well, look what a nice white skin he has!” said the old woman, with whom Master Ranty appeared to be an immense favorite.
“White skin! bleached saffron, more like!” exclaimed Pet; “if our Ranty’s good-looking, I guess he keeps his beauty in his pocket; for nobody but you ever discovered it. Humph! ‘Little yeller gal!’ I vow, it’s enough to provoke a saint!” exclaimed Pet, in a higher key, at the remembrance of this insult.