“Oh, yes. So; true. I 'd forgotten that 'Mandy left you. But I thought the new one was named Susan!” observed Mrs. Meriwether.
“No, 'm; not de newes' one. Susan—I had her las' Christmas; but she would n' stay wid me. She was al'ays runnin' off to town; an' you know a man don' want a ooman on wheels. Ef de Lawd had intended a ooman to have wheels, he 'd 'a' gi'n 'em to her, would n' he?”
“Well, I suppose he would,” assented Mrs. Meriwether. “And this one is Sarah? Well, how is——?”
“Yes, 'm; dis one was Sairey.” We just caught the past tense.
“You get them so quickly, you see, you can't expect one to remember them,” said Mrs. Meriwether, frigidly. She meant to impress Jabez; but Jabez remained serene.
“Yes, 'm; dat 's so,” said he, cheerfully. “I kin hardly remember 'em myself.”
“No, I suppose not.” His mistress grew severe. “Well, how 's Sarah?”
“Well, m'm, I could n' exactly say—Sairey she 's done lef me—yes, 'm.” He looked so cheerful that his mistress said with asperity:
“Left you! She has run off, too! You must have treated her badly?”
“No, 'm. I did n'. I never had a wife I treated better. I let her had all she could eat; an' when she was sick——”