"Lawd, no, Mis' Molly; I did n' hafter go out'n my way ter git dat trunk. I had a load er sperrit-bairls ter haul ter de still, an' de depot wuz right on my way back. It'd be robbin' you ter take pay fer a little thing lack dat.""My son John's here," said Mis' Molly "an' he wants to see you. Come into the settin'-room.
We don't want folks to know he's in town; but you know all our secrets, an' we can trust you like one er the family.""I'm glad to see you again, Frank," said Warwick, extending his hand and clasping Frank's warmly. "You've grown up since I saw you last, but it seems you are still our good friend.""Our very good friend," interjected Rena.
Frank threw her a grateful glance. "Yas, suh,"he said, looking Warwick over with a friendly eye, "an' you is growed some, too. I seed you, you know, down dere where you live; but I did n' let on, fer you an' Mis' Rena wuz w'ite as anybody;an' eve'ybody said you wuz good ter cullud folks, an' he'ped 'em in deir lawsuits an' one way er 'nuther, an' I wuz jes' plum' glad ter see you gettin' 'long so fine, dat I wuz, certain sho', an' no mistake about it.""Thank you, Frank, and I want you to understand how much I appreciate"--"How much we all appreciate," corrected Rena.
"Yes, how much we all appreciate, and how grateful we all are for your kindness to mother for so many years. I know from her and from my sister how good you've been to them.""Lawd, suh!" returned Frank deprecatingly, "you're makin' a mountain out'n a molehill. Iain't done nuthin' ter speak of--not half ez much ez I would 'a' done. I wuz glad ter do w'at little I could, fer frien'ship's sake.""We value your friendship, Frank, and we'll not forget it.""No, Frank," added Rena, "we will never forget it, and you shall always be our good friend."Frank left the room and crossed the street with swelling heart. He would have given his life for Rena. A kind word was doubly sweet from her lips; no service would be too great to pay for her friendship.
When Frank went out to the stable next morning to feed his mule, his eyes opened wide with astonishment. In place of the decrepit, one-eyed army mule he had put up the night before, a fat, sleek specimen of vigorous mulehood greeted his arrival with the sonorous hehaw of lusty youth.
Hanging on a peg near by was a set of fine new harness, and standing under the adjoining shed, as he perceived, a handsome new cart.
"Well, well!" exclaimed Frank; "ef I did n' mos' know whar dis mule, an' dis kyart, an' dis harness come from, I'd 'low dere 'd be'n witcheraf' er cunjin' wukkin' here. But, oh my, dat is a fine mule!--I mos' wush I could keep 'im."He crossed the road to the house behind the cedars, and found Mis' Molly in the kitchen.
"Mis' Molly," he protested, "I ain't done nuthin' ter deserve dat mule. W'at little I done fer you wa'n't done fer pay. I'd ruther not keep dem things.""Fer goodness' sake, Frank!" exclaimed his neighbor, with a well-simulated air of mystification, "what are you talkin' about?""You knows w'at I'm talkin' about, Mis' Molly; you knows well ernuff I'm talkin' about dat fine mule an' kyart an' harness over dere in my stable.""How should I know anything about 'em?" she asked.
"Now, Mis' Molly! You folks is jes' tryin' ter fool me, an' make me take somethin' fer nuthin'.
I lef' my ole mule an' kyart an' harness in de stable las' night, an' dis mawnin' dey 're gone, an' new ones in deir place. Co'se you knows whar dey come from!""Well, now, Frank, sence you mention it, I did see a witch flyin' roun' here las' night on a broom-stick, an' it 'peared ter me she lit on yo'r barn, an' I s'pose she turned yo'r old things into new ones.
I wouldn't bother my mind about it if I was you, for she may turn 'em back any night, you know;an' you might as well have the use of 'em in the mean while.""Dat's all foolishness, Mis' Molly, an' I'm gwine ter fetch dat mule right over here an' tell yo' son ter gimme my ole one back.""My son's gone," she replied, "an' I don't know nothin' about yo'r old mule. And what would I do with a mule, anyhow? I ain't got no barn to put him in.""I suspect you don't care much for us after all, Frank," said Rena reproachfully--she had come in while they were talking. "You meet with a piece of good luck, and you're afraid of it, lest it might have come from us.""Now, Miss Rena, you oughtn't ter say dat," expostulated Frank, his reluctance yielding immediately.
"I'll keep de mule an' de kyart an' de harness--fac', I'll have ter keep 'em, 'cause Iain't got no others. But dey 're gwine ter be yo'n ez much ez mine. W'enever you wants anything hauled, er wants yo' lot ploughed, er anything--dat's yo' mule, an' I'm yo' man an' yo' mammy's."So Frank went back to the stable, where he feasted his eyes on his new possessions, fed and watered the mule, and curried and brushed his coat until it shone like a looking-glass.
"Now dat," remarked Peter, at the breakfast- table, when informed of the transaction, "is somethin' lack rale w'ite folks."
No real white person had ever given Peter a mule or a cart. He had rendered one of them unpaid service for half a lifetime, and had paid for the other half; and some of them owed him substantial sums for work performed. But "to him that hath shall be given"--Warwick paid for the mule, and the real white folks got most of the credit.
