Cotton-eyed Joe, O Cotton-eyed Joe,
What did make you sarve me so?
O Joe, ef it hadn't er ben fur you,
I'd er married dat gal fur true."
And what with Uncle Sambo's fiddle and Jim's banjo, and all of those
fresh, happy young voices, the music was enough to make even the church
members want to dance.
The children enjoyed the dancing even more than they had the playing,
and Diddie and Dumps and Tot and all of the little darkies were patting
their hands and singing "Cotton-eyed Joe" at the very top of their
voices, when Mammy appeared upon the scene, and said it was time to go
home.
"No, Mammy," urged Dumps; "we ain't er goin' ter; we want ter sing
'Cotton-eyed Joe;' hit ain't late."
"Umph-humph! dat's jes wat I 'lowed," said Mammy. "I 'lowed yer wouldn't
be willin' fur ter go, er set'n' hyear an' er patt'n' yer han's same ez
niggers, an' er singin' uv reel chunes; I dunno wat makes you chil'en so
onstrep'rous."
"Yes, Dumps, you know we promised," said Diddie, "and so we must go when
Mammy tells us."
Dumps, finding herself overruled, had to yield, and they all went back
to the house, talking very animatedly of the quarter folks and their
plays and dances.
CHAPTER XI.
DIDDIE IN TROUBLE.
Diddie was generally a very good and studious little girl, and therefore
it was a matter of surprise to everybody when Miss Carrie came down to
dinner one day without her, and, in answer to Major Waldron's inquiry
concerning her, replied that Diddie had been so wayward that she had
been forced to keep her in, and that she was not to have any dinner.
Neither Major nor Mrs. Waldron ever interfered with Miss Carrie's
management, so the family sat down to the meal, leaving the little girl
in the schoolroom.
Dumps and Tot, however, were very indignant, and ate but little dinner;
and, as soon as their mamma excused them, they ran right to the nursery
to tell Mammy about it. They found her overhauling a trunk of old
clothes, with a view of giving them out to such of the little negroes as
they would fit; but she dropped everything after Dumps had stated the
case, and at once began to expatiate on the tyranny of teachers in
general, and of Miss Carrie in particular.
"I know'd how 'twould be," she said, "wen marster fotch her hyear; she
got too much wite in her eye to suit me, er shettin' my chile up, an' er
starvin' uv her; I ain't got no 'pinion uv po' wite folks, nohow."
"Is Miss Carrie po' white folks, Mammy
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