Mrs. G. Now, Dr. Gaines, I am astonished and surprised that you should think of such a thing. You know what trouble I’ve had in training up Hannah for a house servant, and now that I’ve got her so that she knows my ways, you want to sell her. Haven’t you niggers enough on the plantation to sell, without selling the servants from under my very nose?
Dr. G. Oh, yes, my dear; but I can spare Sam, and I don’t like to separate him from his wife; and I thought if you could let Hannah go, I’d sell them both. I don’t like to separate husbands from their wives.
Mrs. G. Now, gentlemen, that’s just the way with my husband. He thinks more about the welfare and comfort of his slaves, than he does of himself or his family. I am sure you need not feel so bad at the thought of separating Sam from Hannah. They’ve only been married eight months, and their attachment can’t be very strong in that short time. Indeed, I shall be glad if you do sell Sam, for then I’ll make Hannah jump the broomstick with Cato, and I’ll have them both here under my eye. I never will again let one of my house servants marry a field hand—never! For when night comes on, the servants are off to the quarters, and I have to holler and holler enough to split my throat before I can make them hear. And another thing: I want you to sell Melinda. I don’t intend to keep that mulatto wench about the house any longer.
Dr. Gaines. My dear, I’ll sell any servant from the place to suit you, except Melinda. I can’t think of selling her—I can’t think of it.
Mrs. G. I tell you that Melinda shall leave this house, or I’ll go. There, now you have it. I’ve had my life tormented out of me by the presence of that yellow wench, and I’ll stand it no longer. I know you love her more than you do me, and I’ll—I’ll—I’ll write—write to my father. [Weeps.]
[Exit Mrs. Gaines, L.
Walk. Why, doctor, your wife’s a screamer, ain’t she? Ha, ha, ha. Why, doctor, she’s got a tongue of her own, ain’t she? Why, doctor, it was only last week that I thought of getting a wife myself; but your wife has skeered the idea out of my head. Now, doctor, if you wants to sell the gal, I’ll buy her. Husband and wife ought to be on good terms, and your wife won’t feel well till the gal is gone. Now, I’ll pay you all she’s worth, if you wants to sell.
Dr. G. No, Mr. Walker; the girl my wife spoke of is not for sale. My wife does not mean what she says; she’s only a little jealous. I’ll get brother Pinchen to talk to her, and get her mind turned upon religious matters, and then she’ll forget it. She’s only a little jealous.
Walk. I tell you what, doctor, ef you call that a little jealous, I’d like to know what’s a heap. I tell you, it will take something more than religion to set your wife right. You had better sell me the gal; I’ll pay you cash down, and no grumblin’.
Dr. G. The girl is not for sale, Mr. Walker; but if you want two good, able-bodied servants, I’ll sell you Sam and Big Sally. Sam is trustworthy, and Sally is worth her weight in gold for rough usage.