MINERVA

l _anybody_. In my opinion, there’s a fortune in ’em. If I had capital and a theater, I wouldn’t want a better lay-out than that—and here we’ve gone and sold ’em for a song. Yes, and ain’t privileged to sing the song yet. Say, where _is_ that song—that draft?” “In the bank for to be collected. Where _would_ it be?” “Well, _that’s_ all right then, thank goodness.” Says I, kind of timid-like: “Is something gone wrong?” The king whirls on me and rips out: “None o’ your business! You keep your head shet, and mind y’r own affairs—if you got any. Long as you’re in this town don’t you forgit _that_—you hear?” Then he says to the duke, “We got to jest swaller it and say noth’n’: mum’s the word for _us_.” As they was starting down the ladder the duke he chuckles again, and says: “Quick sales _and_ small profits! It’s a good business—yes.” v The king snarls around on him and says: “I was trying to do for the best in sellin’ ’em out so quick. If the profits has turned out to be none, lackin’ considable, and none to carry, is it my fault any more’n it’s yourn?” “Well, _they’d_ be in this house yet and we _wouldn’t_ if I could a got my advice listened to.” The king sassed back as much as was safe for him, and then swapped around and lit into _me_ again. He give me down the banks for not coming and _telling_ him I see the niggers come out of his room acting that way—said any fool would a _knowed_ something was up. And then waltzed in and cussed _himself_ awhile, and said it all come of him not laying late and taking his natural rest that morning, and he’d be blamed if he’d ever do it again. So they went off a-jawing; and I felt dreadful glad I’d worked it all off on to the niggers, and yet hadn’t done the niggers no harm by it. CHAPTER XXVIII. By-and-by it was getting-up time. So I come down the ladder and started for down-stairs; but as I come to the girls’ room the door was open, and I see Mary Jane setting by her old hair trunk, which was open and she’d been packing things in it—getting ready to go to England. But she had stopped now with a folded gown in her lap, and had her face in her hands, crying. I felt awful bad to see it; of course anybody would. I went in there and says: “Miss Mary Jane, you can’t a-bear to see people in trouble, and _I_ can’t—most always. Tell me about it.” So she done it. And it was the niggers—I just expected it. She said the beautiful trip to England was most about spoiled for her; she didn’t know _how_ she was ever going to be happy there, knowing the mother and the children warn’t ever going to see each other no more—and then busted out bitterer than ever, and flung up her hands, and says: “Oh, dear, dear, to think they ain’t _ever_ going to see each other any more!” “But they _will_—and inside of two weeks—and I _know_ it!” says I. Laws, it was out before I could think! And before I could budge she throws her arms around my neck and told me to say it _again_, say it _again_, say it _again!_ I see I had spoke too sudden and said too much, and was in a close place. I asked her to let me think a minute; and she set there, very impatient and excited and handsome, but looking kind of happy and eased-up, like a person that’s had a tooth pulled out. So I went to studying it out. I says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, though I ai