"Dat's de time w'en witch folks comes a-dancin' an'
a-prancin' 'roun' and takes off chilluns."
Sylvia knew that all the negroes believed in witches and all sorts of
impossible tales, so Estralla's words did not at all frighten her, but
she did wish that she was safe in her own home. The streets were now
dark and silent, and black shadows seemed to lurk at every corner as,
hand in hand, Estralla and Sylvia ran swiftly along.
"I tells you, Missy, dat it's jes' lucky I comes after you, cos' witch-
folks, w'at comes floatin' 'roun' 'bout dis hour of de night, dey ain't
gwine to tech us; cos' when dey's two folks holdin' each other hands
tight, jes' like we is, dey don't dast to tech us," said Estralla.
"Where were you, Estralla, when I came down-stairs?" Sylvia asked.
"I was jes' a-takin' a little sleep on de big rug side of your door,
Missy. I'se been a-sleepin' dere dis long time. My mammy lets me. An'
when you opens de door I mos' calls out, but didn't. I jes' stan's up
quick, so's you nebber know I was thar," and Estralla chuckled happily.
Sylvia wondered to herself why Estralla should choose such a hard bed.
Then, suddenly, she realized all Estralla's devotion. That the little
negro girl had slept there to be near her "fr'en'." She remembered the
first time that she had ever seen Estralla, on the morning when she had
tumbled in to Sylvia's room and broken the big pitcher, and that even
then Estralla had been ready to confess and take the whipping that she
was sure would follow, rather than let Sylvia be blamed.
Pages:
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95