"But, wedder she's rich or po'," continued the old lady, "she ain't no
bizness er shettin' up my chile; an' marster he oughtn't ter 'low it."
And Mammy resumed her work, but all the time grumbling, and muttering
something about "ole maids" and "po' white folks."
"I don't like her, nohow," said Dumps, "an' I'm glad me an' Tot's too
little ter go ter school; I don't want never to learn to read all my
life. An', Mammy, can't you go an' turn Diddie erloose?"
"No, I can't," answered Mammy. "Yer pa don't 'low me fur ter do it; he
won't do it hisse'f, an' he won't let dem do it wat wants ter. I dunno
wat's gittin' in 'im myse'f. But, you chil'en, put on yer bunnits, an'
run an' play in de yard tell I fixes dis chis' uv cloes; an' you
little niggers, go wid 'em, an' tuck cyar uv 'em; an' ef dem chil'en
git hut, yer'll be sorry fur it, mun; so yer'd better keep em off'n
seesaws an' all sich ez dat."
Dumps and Tot, attended by their little maids, went out in the yard at
Mammy's bidding, but not to play; their hearts were too heavy about
poor little Diddie, and the little negroes were no less grieved than
they were, so they all held a consultation as to what they should do.
"Le's go 'roun' ter de schoolroom winder, an' talk ter her," said
Dilsey.
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