yander wuz erbout six years ole den, de sweetes' little angel
you ever laid eyes on; an' on her dyin' bed Mis' 'Liz'beth ax' Mis'
Polly fer ter stay hyuh an' take keer er her chile, an' Mis' Polly she
promise'. She wuz a widder fer de secon' time, an' didn' have no
child'en, an' could jes' as well come as not.

"But dere wuz trouble after de fune'al, an' it happen' right hyuh in dis
lib'ary. Mars Sam wuz settin' by de table, w'en Mis' Polly come
downstairs, slow an' solemn, an' stood dere in de middle er de flo', all
in black, till Mars Sam sot a cheer fer her.

"'Well, Samuel,' says she, 'now dat we've done all we can fer po'
'Liz'beth, it only 'mains fer us ter consider Olivia's future.'

"Mars Sam nodded his head, but didn' say nothin'.

"'I don' need ter tell you,' says she,' dat I am willin' ter carry out
de wishes er my dead sister, an' sac'ifice my own comfo't, an' make
myse'f yo' housekeeper an' yo' child's nuss, fer my dear sister's sake.
It wuz her dyin' wish, an' on it I will ac', ef it is also yo'n.'

"Mars Sam didn' want Mis' Polly ter come, suh; fur he didn' like Mis'
Polly. He wuz skeered er Miss Polly."

"I don't wonder," yawned the doctor, "if she was anything like she is
now."

"Wuss, suh, fer she wuz younger, an' stronger. She always would have her
say, no matter 'bout what, an' her own way, no matter who 'posed her.
She had already be'n in de house fer a week, an' Mars Sam knowed ef she
once come ter stay, she'd be de mist'ess of eve'ybody in it an' him
too. But w'at could he do but say yas?

"'Den it is unde'stood, is it,' says Mis' Polly, w'en he had spoke, 'dat
I am ter take cha'ge er de house?'

"'All right, Polly,' says Mars Sam, wid a deep sigh.

"Mis' Polly 'lowed he wuz sighin' fer my po' dead mist'ess, fer she didn'
have no idee er his feelin's to'ds her,--she alluz did 'low dat all
de gent'emen wuz in love wid 'er.

"'You won' fin' much ter do,' Mars Sam went on, 'fer Julia is a good
housekeeper, an' kin ten' ter mos' eve'ything, under yo' d'rections.'

"Mis' Polly stiffen' up like a ramrod. 'It mus' be unde'stood, Samuel,'
says she, 'dat w'en I 'sumes cha'ge er yo' house, dere ain' gwine ter be
no 'vided 'sponsibility; an' as fer dis Julia, me an' her couldn' git
'long tergether nohow. Ef I stays, Julia goes.'

"Wen Mars Sam beared dat, he felt better, an' 'mence' ter pick up his
courage. Mis' Polly had showed her ban' too plain. My mist'ess hadn'
got col' yit, an' Mis' Poll