with a remote trouble of mind because the words were at once so graphic and yet so imperfectly applicable. The son and daughter exchanged a silent wonder as long as they could bear it; then the daughter asked the colored girl:
"What is it?"
"It's a boarding-house," the girl answered, simply.
"Oh," the daughter said.
Sounds of more decided character than before now came from the figure on the door-step.
"She seems to be saying something," the daughter suggested in general terms. "What is she saying?" she asked the colored girl.
The girl stooped over and listened. Then she answered, "She's swearing."
"Swearing? What about? Whom is she swearing at?"
"At me, I reckon. She says, why don't I take her home."
"Well, why doesn't she get up, then?"