The passengers who streamed through the great station the evening of her arrival, were surprised to see a pudgy old black woman escorted by a gentleman who, loaded down with her bundles and baskets, was guiding her through the throng as respectfully as if she had been the first lady in the land. At the gate a lady and several children were awaiting her, and at sight of her a cry of joy went up. Dropping her bundles, the old woman threw herself into the lady's arms and kissed her again and again, after which she received a multitude of kisses from the children.
“Well, I never saw anything like that,” said a stranger to another.
“She is their mammy,” said the other one simply, with a pleasant light in his eyes.
The old woman's presence seemed to transform the house. She was no sooner installed than she took possession. That very morning she established her position, after a sharp but decisive battle with the airy “colored lady,” who for some days had been dawdling about the house. The mammy had gauged her as soon as her sharp eyes fell on her.
“What does yo' call yo'self?” she asked her.
“What is my name? I am called 'Miss Johnson—Miss Selina Johnson.'”
The old woman gave a sniff.
“Yo' is! Well, what does yo' call you'self doin' heah?”
“You mean what is my employment! I am the help—one of the help.”
“Yo' is!” Mam' Lyddy tightened her apron-strings about her stout waist. “Well, 'Miss Johnson,' you git holt of that mat-trass and help me meek up dis heah bed so it 'll be fit for you' mistis to sleep on it.” With a jerk she turned up the mattress. The maid was so taken aback for a moment that she did not speak. Then she drew herself up.