“Ye’s mighty sick, isn’t ye, Miss’ Ray?” said Daph, compassionately, as she stepped to the bedside of the sufferer.
Mrs. Ray turned her head to the wall and groaned, but Daph was not to be easily disconcerted.
“Spose I jus makes you a little warm drink, and kinder helps you to frow off dis ere sickness?” said Daph, insinuatingly.
“O, my back! my bones! they ache so!” said the poor woman.
“It’s jus bein out in dis wet wedder, jus a-comin from dat awful hot fire into de swash down rain,” said Daph. “White folks isn’t used to such hard work. You jus can’t bear it, dats it.”
Daph had struck the right cord, and Mrs. Ray answered, “No; I aint used to it. That’s true enough, but who have I got to help me, but just that slip of a girl. O, if my boy had only lived!”
Daph did not wait to hear more of the complaints, which were the burden of Mrs. Ray’s daily talk. She hastened to the kitchen, and with Mary’s help, she soon prepared a steaming bowl of of herb-tea, which Mrs. Ray took from her hand without a word. She would have resisted, when Daph proceeded to bathe her feet in warm water, but the kind-hearted negro went steadily on, regardless of opposition, saying, “You’s so very sick, we’s mus jus take care of you, same as if you were a bit of a baby. There now, let me jus put de cubber over you,” she said, as she released the restive feet. “Now, if you could jus git a little sleep, while I go dress de babies, I’se do believe you would feel mighty better.”
Mrs. Ray did fall into a quiet sleep, the more sound from the night of wakefulness and pain she had just passed. When she awoke, she heard unusual sounds in the kitchen below, and if she could have peeped down the stair-way, a pleasant scene would have met her eyes. A cheerful fire roared up the wide chimney. Daph, revived by the welcome heat, was ironing away at the great table, with real heartiness, while little Mary, at her side, tried to move her slender arms in the same energetic manner. Charlie was seated on the table, a happy spectator of these proceedings, while Louise stood by him, sprinkling and folding a bit of rag again and again, not doubting that she was amazingly useful.
“Mary! Mary!” said a voice from above, feebler and a little less sharp than usual, “who’s down there with you?”
“It’s jus me and de childen, Miss’ Ray,” said Daph, putting her head fearlessly up the stair-way. “Dat big basket o’ clothes wants ’tention, and I’se jus thought I’se better be ironin a bit, to git de tings out de way.”