down de stairs jes as Marse George finish shakin' hands. I seen he eye
light on her as she come down de steps smilin', wid her dim blue dress
trainin' behind her, an' her little blue foots peepin' out so pretty,
an' holdin' a little hankcher, lookin' like a spider-web, in one hand,
an' a gret blue fan in turr, spread out like a peacock tail, an' jes
her roun' arms an' th'oat white, an' her gret dark eyes lightin' up her
face. I say, 'Dyah 'tis!' and when de ole Cun'l stan' aside an'
interduce 'em, and Marse George step for'ard an' meck he grand bow, an'
she sort o' swing back an' gin her curtchy, wid her dress sort o'
dammed up 'ginst her, an' her arms so white, an' her face sort o'
sunsetty, I say, 'Yes, Lord! Edinburg, dyah you mistis.' Marse George
look like he think she done come down right from de top o' de blue sky
an' bring piece on it wid her. He ain' nuver took he eyes from her dat
night. Dee glued to her, mun! an' she--well, do' she mighty rosy, an'
look mighty unconsarned, she sutney ain' hender him. Hit look like
kyarn nobody else tote dat fan an' pick up dat hankcher skusin o' him;
an' after supper, when dee all playin' blind-man's-buff in de hall--I
don' know how twuz--but do' she jes as nimble as a filly, an' her ankle
jes as clean, an' she kin git up her dress an' dodge out o' de way o'
ev'ybody else, somehow or nurr she kyarn help him ketchin' her to save
her life; he al'ays got her corndered; an' when dee'd git fur apart,
dat ain' nuttin, dee jes as sure to come togerr agin as water is whar
you done run you hand thoo. An' do' he kiss ev'ybody else under de
mistletow, 'cause dee be sort o' cousins, he ain' nuver kiss her, nor
nobody else ain't nurr, 'cep' de ole Cun'l. I wuz standin' down at de
een de hall wid de black folks, an' I notice it 'tic'lar, 'cause I done
meck de 'quaintance o' Nancy; she wuz Miss Charlotte's maid; a mighty
likely young gal she wuz den, an' jes as impident as a fly. She see it
too, do' she ain' 'low it.

"Fust thing I know I seen a mighty likely light-skinned gal standin'
dyah by me, wid her hyah mos' straight as white folks, an' a mighty
good frock on, an' a clean apron, an' her hand mos' like a lady, only
it brown, an' she keep on 'vidin' her eyes twix me an' Miss Charlotte;
when I watchin' Miss Charlotte she watchin' me, an' when I steal my eye
'roun' on her she noticin' Miss Charlotte; an' presney I sort o' sidle
'longside her, an' I say, 'Lady, you mighty spright