“No, ma’am, I wasn’t ’sleep.  I’s mighty apt to nod w’en I’s a-thinkin’.  It’s a kin’ o’ keepin’ time to my idees.  But bless yo’ soul I wasn’t ‘sleep.  I shets my eyes so’s to see to think bettah.  An’ aftah all, Mistah Ma’tin wasn’t mo’ ‘n half an houah late dat mo’nin’ nohow, ‘case w’en I did git up I sholy flew.  Ef you jes’ ’membahs ‘bout my steadyin’ we ain’t nevah gwine have no trouble long’s I stays hyeah.

“You say dat one night I stayed out tell one o’clock.  W’y—­oh, yes.  Dat uz Thu’sday night.  W’y la!  Mis’ Ma’tin, dat’s de night my s’ciety meets, de Af’Ame’ican Sons an’ Daughtahs of Judah.  We had to ‘nitianate a new can’date dat night, an’ la!  I wish you’d ‘a’ been thaih, you’d ‘a’ killed yo’self a-laffin’.

“You nevah did see sich ca’in’s on in all yo’ bo’n days.  It was pow’ful funny.  Broth’ Eph’am Davis, he’s ouah Mos’ Wusshipful Rabbi, he says hit uz de mos’ s’cessful ’nitination we evah had.  Dat can’date pawed de groun’ lak a hoss an’ tried to git outen de winder.  But I got to be mighty keerful how I talk:  I do’ know whethah you ‘long to any secut s’cieties er not.  I wouldn’t been so late even fu’ dat, but Mistah Hi’am Smif, he gallanted me home an’ you know a lady boun’ to stan’ at de gate an’ talk to huh comp’ny a little while.  You know how it is, Mis’ Ma’tin.

“I been en’tainin’ my comp’ny in de pa’lor?  Co’se I has; you wasn’t usin’ it.  What you s’pose my frien’s ’u’d think ef I’d ax ’em in de kitchen w’en dey wasn’t no one in de front room?  Co’se I ax ’em in de pa’lor.  I do’ want my frien’s to think I’s wo’kin’ fu’ no low-down people.  W’y, Miss ‘Liza Harris set down an’ played mos’ splendid on yo’ pianna, an’ she compermented you mos’ high.  S’pose I’d a tuck huh in de kitchen, whaih de comperments come in?

“Yass’m, yass’m, I does tek home little things now an’ den, dat I does, an’ I ain’t gwine to ‘ny it.  I jes’ says to myse’f, I ain’t wo’kin’ fu’ no strainers lak de people nex’ do’, what goes into tantrums ef de lady what cooks fu’ ’em teks home a bit o’ sugar.  I ‘lows to myse’f I ain’t wo’kin’ fu’ no sich folks; so sometimes I teks home jes’ a weenchy bit o’ somep’n’ dat nobody couldn’t want nohow, an’ I knows you ain’t gwine ’ject to dat.  You do ’ject, you do ’ject!  Huh!

“I’s got to come an’ ax you, has I?  Look a-hyeah, Mis’ Ma’tin, I know I has to wo’k in yo’ kitchen.  I know I has to cook fu’ you, but I want you to know dat even ef I does I’s a lady.  I’s a lady, but I see you do’ know how to ‘preciate a lady w’en you meets one.  You kin jes’ light in an’ git yo’ own dinner.  I wouldn’t wo’k fu’ you ef you uz made o’ gol’.  I nevah did lak to wo’k fu’ strainers, nohow.

“No, ma’am, I cain’t even stay an’ git de dinner.  I know w’en I been insulted.  Seems lak ef I stay in hyeah another minute I’ll bile all over dis kitchen.

“Who excited?  Me excited?  No, I ain’t excited.  I’s mad.  I do’ lak nobody pesterin’ ‘roun’ my kitchen, nohow, huh, uh, honey.  Too many places in dis town waitin’ fu’ Ca’line Mason.