e
out o' her own mouf to put'em on de fiar; she warn't gwine pesta wid
'em."

"Warn't gwine pesta wid 'em?" administering a cuff on the ear of the
too communicative Betsy, that sent her sprawling across the table.
"T'inks I'se gwine pesta wid you--does you? Messin' roun' heah in de
kitchin' an' ain't tu'ned down a bed or drawed a bah, or done a lick
o' yo' night wurk yit."

"I is done my night wurk, too," returned Betsy whimpering but
defiantly, as she retreated beyond reach of further blows from Aunt
Belindy's powerful right hand.

"Dat harshness o' yourn, Belindy, is wat's a sourin' yo' tempa, an' a
turnin' of it intur gall an' wormwood. Does you know wat de Scripture
tells us of de wrathful woman?"

"Whar I got time to go a foolin' wid Scripture? W'at I wants to know;
whar dat Pierson boy, he don't come. He ben gone time 'nough to walk
to Natch'toches an' back."

"Ain't dat him I years yonda tu de crib?" suggestod Betsy, coming to
join Aunt Belindy in the open doorway.

"You heahs mos' too much fu' yo' own good, you does, gal."

But Betsy was right. For soon a tall, slim negro, young and coal
black, mounted the stairs and came into the kitchen, where he
deposited a meal bag filled with various necessities that he had
brought from Centerville. He was one of the dancers who had displayed
their skill before Melicent and Gregoire. Uncle Hiram at once accosted
him.

"Well, Pierson, we jest a ben a wonderin' consarnin' you. W'at was de
'casion o' dat long delay?"

"De 'casion? W'y man alive, I couldn't git a dog gone soul in de town
to wait on me."

"Dat boy kin lie, yas," said Aunt Belindy, "God A'mighty knows ever
time I ben to Centaville dem sto' keepas ain't done a blessed t'ing
but settin' down."

"Settin' down--Lord! dey warn't settin' down to-day; you heah me."

"W'at dey doin' ef dey ain't settin' down, Unc' Pierson?" asked Betsy
with amiable curiosity.

"You jis drap dat 'uncle,' you," turning wrathfully upon the girl,
"sence w'en you start dat new trick?"

"Lef de chile 'lone, Pierson, lef 'er alone. Come heah, Betsy, an' set
by yo' Uncle Hiurm."

From the encouraging nearness of Uncle Hiram, she ventured to ask
"w'at you 'low dey doin' ef dey ain't settin' down?" this time without
adding the offensive title.

"Dey flyin' 'roun', Lord! dey hidin' dey sef! dey gittin' out o' de
way, I tell you. Gregor jis ben a raisin' ole Cain in Centaville."

"I know'd it; could a' tole you dat mese'f. M