“Da’s right, Mr. Tom. I wan’ make you laugh ’bout my w’ite folks,” Scilla answered.
Susan brought her a cup of coffee, and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Scilla helped herself generously to sugar, and as she stirred her coffee, began her gossip.
“You ain’ goin’ b’lieve me w’en I tell you I ain’ workin’ for Miss Mimi no longer.” (Looks of astonishment from Tom and Susan.) “I des had to leave. You know, dey say niggers ain’ got no principle. But dey got a whole lot o’ w’ite folks w’at ain’ a bit better.”
“Scilla, ain’ you shame to scandalize de people you gits yo’ livin’ from?” Susan asked in honest surprise.
“Who? Sis’ Susan, I ain’ say’n nothin’ w’at ain’ true. Is Miss Mimi ever paid you anything for de many times I comed hyuh an’ borried yo’ gahlic an’ peppers an’ seas’nin’ an’ things to put in her vittuls w’en she had big comp’ny to her house? Try’n to make a show, an’ lookin’ to de niggers to help her out?... Who? Dat ain’ w’at I calls principle.”
“Gal, don’ talk so fas’,” Susan told her. “I’m knowin’ Miss Mimi ever since she was a baby-chile.”
“But she done los’ her baby-ways now; an’ you ain’ know her since she growed up an’ got ways like dey say us niggers got.”
“Scilla, you sho is crittacul,” said Tom. “Go ’head an’ talk w’at you start to talk.”
Scilla looked towards Susan for permission to go on. Finding no objection, she continued: