"If Margaret were to take her place by your side day by day and do what you do it would not corrupt her soul any more than it has corrupted yours. And so long as the soul is pure God loves you, and who dares despise what God loves? God loves an honest heart, even when the frame that contains it is bending over the washtub. It would be so grand, Aunt Mollie, if you could get Margaret out of that false notion of life, borrowed from white people in the South. She would be so much help to your overburdened frame. I could scarcely repress my tears as you told me how you, an aged, feeble woman labored so hard for that young, strong and vigorous girl to sustain her in a false notion of life. Yes, yes, Mrs. Marston, I am going to hire out. There is a little mortgage on our home that must be paid. Then, too, I wish to earn money enough to enable me to finish my education. These ends being honorable and desirable, I am willing to perform any task that is honorable, though menial to attain them. Now, Aunt Mollie, I have an engagement at four o'clock and must leave you. Pray for me, for I shall be most viciously assailed by my own people who feel that the stand they take against me has a parallel in the white race where the common laborer is shut out from social recognition by the well-to-do element. And you know how hard a Negro will throw a stone at another if he feels that he has the sanction of the white people. Nevertheless, I shall strive in my humble way to prove that labor is not inimical to ladyhood."
"Pray for you! God bless yer pew soul! Dat I will, Erm, dat I will," said Aunt Mollie, brushing away with her horny hands the tears from her eyes. She continued, "Disgrace or no disgrace, dere is powerfil few lack you, Erm, powerfil few. Ef you eber needs a home, come to your Aunt Mollie Marston's. Good day. So long, chile, God bless you."
Mrs. Marston walked homeward, musing over Erma's sayings. "Wal, I hez notused dat dem northun wimmin es cums doun here doos wuck. I 'specks dese Suverners hes got us blevin' wrong ter tink dat a washtub spiles yer ladyship. Mebbe arter all I hez been a lady and didunt know it all dis whiul. Been cheated outen my standing in life foolin' arter dese Suverners! I declar' it begins ter peer ter me dat Erm is right, 'do I 'fess I didunt ketch on ter all de pints in her argifikashun. One pint she made 'prest me powerfil much. It mout not hurt Margie so much ef she would help her ole mammy er bit. It is gitting hard fir me ter liff and tote dem big tubs like I hez ter do, fir dey shuah air heavy. I uster help my mammy ter liff hern. Margie mout do a little ub de cookin' and i'nin' and let her pore mammy rest some. I hez been wuckin' so hard all my days and I hez nebber had no rest. But I ain't here fir much longer. Frum de way my rheumatis feels, Jesus will be callin' me soon." Thinking thus, she went back to her work. As she labored, the sweet face and tender brown eyes of Erma were peeping up through the soapsuds and the sight thereof made her happy and her task the lighter. Strange to say, and perhaps not strange after all, her mind did not once go out to her own daughter, who, in company with Ellen Sanders, was stirring up the entire city against an orphan girl whose only offense was that she had decided to obey the Bible injunction to labor six days in the week.
CHAPTER V.
WHAT A KISS DID.
We are within the folds of night, and Elbridge Noral is once more a visitor at the home of Dolly Smith. We have the same dimly lighted room and the same parties to the conversation.
"Mrs. Smith," began Noral very excitedly, "I come to ask you in the name of heaven to prevent a catastrophe and to unravel a puzzle that racks my brain. I wish for you to prevent Erma Wysong from becoming a servant girl; and I further beg of you to tell me why she seeks to become one."
"Explain, Mr. Noral, wherein becoming a servant girl is such a catastrophe. Is not work honorable?" asked Dolly, in evident astonishment.
"Yes, yes, but ah! the atmosphere surrounding the Negro service girl! She is away from her own people, not allowed social contact with the family of her employer, and usually resides in solitude in a little house in the back yard, with alleyways as the only approach. Such a state of affairs puts a premium on male companionship, which may be ever so frequent, or at improper hours, without the fear of any adverse comment thereon, and, in fact, without its being known. This condition of things, as might reasonably be expected, generates a great deal of immorality. While there are service girls of sterling worth, a bad odor attaches to the calling. If Erma goes into service in such fashion, the very atmosphere will breed insults for her. White youths will feel that she has no further claims to respectability, and will proceed to deal with her accordingly. So much for the catastrophe. The puzzling thing to me is as to why Erma should contemplate such a course." These remarks were delivered by Noral with unwonted energy.