I did not like the look of
things any better than I had done at first. The places were
not "nice;" there was a coarse, uncared-for air of everything
within, although the outside was in such well dressed
condition. No litter on the grass, no, untidiness of walls or
chimneys; and no seeming of comfortable homes when the door
was opened. The village, for it amounted to that, was almost
deserted at that hour; only a few crooning old women on the
sunny side of a wall, and a few half-grown girls, and a
quantity of little children, depending for all the care they
got upon one or the other of these.
"Haven't all these little babies got mothers?" I asked.
"For sure, Miss Daisy — dey's got modders."
"Where _are_ the mothers of all these babies, Darry?" I asked.
"Dey's in de field, Miss Daisy. Home d'rectly."
"Are they working like _men_, in the fields?" I asked.
"Dey's all at work," said Darry.
"Do they do the same work as the men?"
"All alike, Miss Daisy." Darry's answers were not hearty.
"But don't their little babies want them?" said I, looking at
a group of girls in whose hands were some very little babies
indeed.
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