It is a porch on the south side of the house, between two projections.  Consequently both ends of it are closed; one, by the parlor wall, in which there is a window,—­and the other, by the kitchen window and wall.  It is quite shut in from winds, and the sun beams pleasantly upon it, these chilly March days.  There is just room enough for my couch, Kate’s rocking-chair, and a little table.  Here we sit all the morning,—­Kate sewing, I reading, or watching the sailing clouds, the swelling tree-buds in the grove, and the crocus-sprinkled grass, which is growing greener every day.

Thus, while busy with me, Kate can still have an eye to her kitchen, and we both enjoy the queer doings and sayings of our “culled help,” Saide.  She became Kate’s servant under an inducement which I will give in her own words.

“Massy!  Miss Catline, when I does a pusson a good turn, seems like I wants to keep on doin’ ’em good turns.  I didn’t do so dreffle much for you, but I jes got one chance to help you a bit, and seems like I couldn’t be satisfactioned to let you alone no more.”—­A novel reason to hear given, but a true one in philosophy.

This “chance” was when my sister was attacked with cholera once, in the first panic caused by it, of late years.  All her friends had fled to the country, and she was quite alone in a boarding-house.  I was at college.  She would have been left to die alone, so great was the fear of the disease, if Saide, who was cook in the establishment, had not boiled over with indignation, and addressed her selfish mistress in this fashion:—­

“That ar’ young lady’s not to have no care, nohow, took of her, a’n’t she?  She’s to be lef’ there a-sufferin’ all alone that-a-way, is she?  I guess so too!  Hnh!  Now I’se gwine to nuss her, and I don’t keer if you don’t know nothin’ about culining, you must get yer own dinnas and breakwusses and suppas.  That’s the plain English of it,—­leastways till she’s well ag’in.”

She devoted herself night and day to Kate for several weeks, and then accompanied her to this house, as a matter of course.  She is a privileged personage.  She often pops her head out of the kitchen window to favor us with her remarks.  As they always make us laugh, she won’t take reproofs upon that subject.  Kate says her impertinence is intolerable, but suffers it rather than resort to severity with her old benefactress.  I enjoy it.

She manages to turn her humor to account in various ways.  I heard her exclaim,—­

“Laws-a-me!  Dere goes de best French-chayny gold-edged tureen all to smash!  Pieces not big enough to save!  Laws now, do let me study how to tell de folks, so’s to set ’em larfin’.  Dere’s great ’casion to find suthin’ as ’ll do it, ‘cause dey thinks a heap o’ dis yere ole chayny.  Mr. Charley now,—­he’s easy set off; but Miss Catline,—­she takes suthin’ purty ‘cute!  Laws, I has to fly roun’ to git dat studied out!”