“Uncle Mose all de chillun in de fambly calls me.”
“Give me your sailor’s full name and I’ll try to find out where he is.”
“Oh, Missie, if you do dat de Lawd’ll bless you de res’ o’ yo’ days. He name Charles Whitlaw Tradd. De bes’ blood in all de low country flows in he veins.”
Kitty wrote down the name and said, “It may take some time, but I’ll come back to see you if I can find out where he is.”
“Lawdy, Missie, hit good to talk to real quality folk like y’all once more. You sho’ put me in mind o’ ole Massa’s bride when he brung her home to de island. You’s as much like her as two peas in a pod.”
“Thank you,” said Kitty, and curtsied as she knew the old-fashioned girls used to do. “We must be going now, but we’re glad we met you.”
“It do a lonely old man good to talk to folks like you,” he said with a respectful bow. “I ain’t got nothin’ but memories to live wid now.”
When he was out of hearing Brad whistled softly, “Kit, I’ll have to hand it to you for learning a lot from him. You worked your way right into his heart and found out plenty.”
“Oh, really, Brad, I didn’t purposely treat him nice just to pick him. I warmed to him the minute I saw him. He’s the real thing.”
“You bet!”