"
"I will, good night, Doctor."
"Good night, Harry."
The mare trotted on down the dark street, past the twinkling lights. The
Doctor stood by the curb until he heard the buggy wheels rattle over the
railroad tracks, then turned to walk stiffly back to his seat on the
porch.
Soon the tired horse was in the hands of old Uncle George, while Mam Liz
ministered to the weary doctor. The old black woman lingered in the
dining room after serving his dinner, hovering about the table, calling
his attention to various dishes, watching his face the while with an
expression of anxiety upon her own wrinkled countenance. At last Harry
looked up at her with a smile.
"Well Mam Liz, what is it? Haven't I been good today?"
"No sah. Mars Harry yo ain't. Yo been plumb bad, an' I feel jest like I
uster when yo was er little trick an' I tuk yo 'cross my knee an'
walloped yo good."
"Why, Mammy, what have I done now? Wasn't that new dress what you wanted?
You can change it, you know, for anything you like."
"Law, chile, 'tain't _me_. Yo ole Mammy mighty proud o' them dress
goods--they's too fine fo ole nigger like me. 'Tain't nothin' yo done to
other folks, Mars Harry. Hit's what yo all's doin' to yoself." A tear
stole down the dusky cheek. "Think I can't see how yo--yo plumb tuckered
out? Yo ain't slep in yo bed fo three nights 'ceptin' jest fo a hour one
mo'nin' when other folks was er gettin' up, an' only the Good Lawd knows
when yo eats.
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