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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"Twilight Stories"

Ef de chile only CUD do it!"
She peered anxiously down the dirty little brick walk again, then
fetched a still longer sigh.
"I don't darst to!" she declared in a mighty burst at last. "I
don't, cos wot ud keep us all from the pore-'us den. It's every
speck I kin do ter keep along of de Miss an' Car'l an' take keer
of 'em wi'dout a cent o' pay; I don't darst tech my stockin' bag
in de bank."
Maum Patty always spoke of her scanty savings deposited in the
neighboring bank, in this way, fondly supposing them in the
original condition in which ten years ago, she had taken them
there for future shield against sickness and old age.
Meantime the little black nurse had begun her work.
Peering around Miss Sylvia's half-closed door, Viny exclaimed to
herself, "Umph! she don't want me; guess she's a'readin' now.
I'll git into Miss Ca's room an' try on all her clo'es an'
pertend I'm makin' calls, an' peek inter ebery single place whar
I kin, an' I'll be a lady, an' dar sha'n't no one scold Viny."
"Viny," called Miss Sylvia's soft voice, hearing a rustle at the
door.
"Dat's Jip she's a-talkin' ter, I reckon," said Viny, stealing
off on her tiptoes down the hall, and sticking her fingers in her
ears that she might hear no more troublesome conscience calls; "I
seen him on de rug when I peeked in de crack. Now den-- Whoop,
says I, WHOOP!"
She was safe now in Caryl's room, where the first thing she did
was to indulge in a series of somersaults over the floor, and
also, for variety, over the neat little white bed.


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