Frances Boyd Calhoun

“ You can't be a chief nohow; you got to be a squash, Injun ladies 'r' name' squashes; me an' Billy's the chiefs. I'm name' old Setting Bull, hi'self.”
“You can't be named 'Bull,' Jimmy,” reproved Lina, “it isn't genteel to say 'bull' before people.”
“Yes, I am too,” he contended. “Setting Bull's the biggest chief they is and I'm going to be name' him.”
“Well, I am not going to play then,” said Lina primly, “my mother wants me to be genteel, and 'bull' is not genteel.”
“I tell you what, Jimmy,” proposed Frances, “you be name' 'Setting Cow. 'Cow' is genteel 'cause folks milk 'em.” ”

“ His aunt sat down on the bed by his side. She was not versed in the ways of childhood and could not know that the little boy wanted to pillow his head on Aunt Cindy's soft and ample bosom, that he was homesick for his black friends, the only companions he had ever known.
“I'll you a Bible story,” she temporized. “You must not be a baby. You are not afraid, are you, William? God is always with you.”
“I don' want no God,” he sullenly made reply, “I wants somebody with sho' 'nough skin an' bones, an'—n' I wants to hear 'bout Uncle Piljerk Peter.” ”

“ Jimmy was dying of curiosity but the gate was too far away for him to do more than catch a word now and then. It was also out of Sarah Jane's visual line, so she knew nothing of the stranger's advent.
“And you're here all by yourself?” insinuated Billy's new friend. “And the folks next door, where are they?”
“Mrs. Garner's at the Aid an' Mr. Garner's gone to Memphis. That is they little boy a-settin' in they yard on they grass,” answered the child.
“I've come to fix your Aunt Minerva's water pipe,” said truth-loving Mr. Jones. “Come, show me the way; I'm the plumber.” ”

“ And what you reckon that man's got in his office? He's got a dead man 'thout no meat nor clo'es on, nothing a tall but just his bones.”
“Was he a hant?” asked Billy. “I like the Major best—he 's got meat on.”
“Naw; he didn't have no sheet on—just bones,” was the reply.
“No sheet on; no meat on!” chirruped Billy, glad of the rhyme.
“Was he a angel, Florence?” questioned Frances.
“Naw; he didn't have no harp and no wings neither.”
“It must have been a skeleton,” explained Lina.
“And Uncle Doc' just keeps that poor man there and won't let him go to Heaven where dead folks b'longs.” ”

“ Pull me th'oo, Billy.”
About this time the defrauded fowl flew from her nest and attempted to get out by her rightful exit. Finding it stopped up by a wriggling, squirming body she perched herself on the little boy's neck and flapped her enraged wings in his face.
“Pull!” yelled the child again, “help me th'oo, Billy, 'fore this fool chicken pecks all the meat off 'm my bones.”
Billy grabbed the sticky limbs and gave a valiant tug, but the body did not move an inch. Alas, Jimmy with his cargo of broken eggs was fast imprisoned. ”

“ From this safe vantage point he shouted to Billy, who was holding the nozzle of the hose out of which poured a stream of water.
“You 'd better turn that water off 'cause Miss Minerva's going to be madder 'n a green persimmon.”
“I do' know how to,” said Billy forlornly. “You turnt it on.”
“Drop the hose and run to the hydrant and twist that little thing at the top,” screamed Jimmy. “You all time got to perpose someping to get little boys in trouble anyway,” he added ungenerously.
“You perposed this yo'self,” declared an indignant Billy. ”

“ Give it up? Give it up?” the little girl laughed gleefully. “Well, he just broke out with measles.”
“It is Billy's time,” said Lina, who seemed to be mistress of ceremonies.
“Tabernicle learnt this here one at school; 'see, if y' all can guess it: 'Tabby had four kittens but Stillshee didn't have none 't all”'
“I don't see no sense a tall in that,” argued Jimmy, “'thout some bad little boys drownded 'em.”
“Tabby was a cat,” explained the other boy, “and she had four kittens; and Stillshee was a little girl, and she didn't have no kittens 't all.” ”

“ Can't no woman at all 'cepting my mama and Miss Cecilia kiss me. But Leon is 'bout the kissingest kid they is; why, he'd just as soon's not let Frances and Lina kiss him; he ain't got no better sense. 'Course I gotta let Miss Cecilia kiss me 'cause she's 'bout the plumpest Sunday-School teacher they is and the Bible say 'If your Sunday-School teacher kiss you on one cheek turn the other cheek and let her kiss you on that, too,' and I all time bound to do what the Bible say. You 'd better call him back, Frances, and kiss him, you and Lina 're so stuck on him. ”

“ Jones's energy. “You sho' is a hero to stan' up an' let him knock you down like he done.”
“Yes,” cried Jimmy, as the black woman dragged him kicking and struggling through the hall, “we's all heroes, but I bet I'm the heroest hero they is, and I bet Miss Minerva's going to be mad 'bout you all spilling all that blood on her nice clean floor.”
“Lemme see yo' big toe what was shot off by all them Yankees and Injuns what you killed in the war,” said Billy to Miss Minerva's beau.
The Major smiled at the little boy; a man-to-man smile, full of good comradeship, humor, and understanding. ”

“ The deal was promptly closed and a little black negro went grinning down the street with Miss Minerva's old bustle tied across his face, leaving behind him a curly-haired dog.
“Ain't he sweet?” said Jimmy, hugging the fluffy white ball close to his breast, “we got to name him, Billy.”
“Le's name her Peruny Pearline,” was the suggestion of the other joint owner.
“He ain't going to be name' nothing at all like that,” declared Jimmy; “you all time got to name our dogs the scalawaggest name they is. He's going to be name' 'Sam Lamb' 'cause he's my partner.” ”

“ My mama's gone too, so she left me with Brother and he's writing a love letter to Ruth Shelton, so I slipped off.”
“Mother has gone to the Aid, too,” said Lina.
“My mama too,” chimed in Jimmy, “she goes to the Aid every Monday and to card parties nearly all the time. She telled Sarah Jane to 'tend to me and Sarah Jane's asleep. I hear her snoring. Ain't we glad there ain't no grown folks to meddle? Can't we have fun?”
“What'll we play?” asked Frances, who had deliberately stepped in a mud puddle on the way, and splashed mud all over herself, “let's make mud pies.” ”

“ May I, mama? May I, mama? 'and toreckly she'll say, 'Yes, go on and lemme read in peace.'”
“Aunt Minerva won't give in much,” said Billy. “When she say 'No, William,' 'tain't no use 'tall to beg her; you jest wastin' yo' breath. When she put her foot down it got to go just like she say; she sho' do like to have her own way better 'n any 'oman I ever see.”
“She 'bout the mannishest woman they is,” agreed Jimmy. “She got you under her thumb, Billy. I don' see what womans 're made fo' if you can't beg 'em into things. I wouldn't let no old spunky Miss Minerva get the best of me that 'way. ”

“ There was a short silence, broken by Billy, who remarked, apropos of nothing:
“I sho' is glad I don't hafter be a 'oman when I puts on long pants, mens is heap mo' account.”
“I wouldn't be a woman for nothing at all,” Jimmy fully agreed with him; “they have the pokiest time they is.”
“I'm glad I am going to be a young lady when I grow up,” Lina declared, “I wouldn't be a gentleman for anything. I'm going to wear pretty clothes and be beautiful and be a belle like mother was, and have lots of lovers kneel at my feet on one knee and play the guitar with the other.” ”

“ It was a warm day in early August and the four children were sitting contentedly in the swing. They met almost every afternoon now, but were generally kept under strict surveillance by Miss Minerva.
“'Twon't be long 'fore we'll all hafto go to school,” remarked Frances, “and I'll be mighty sorry; I wish we didn't ever hafto go to any old school.”
“I wisht we knowed how to read an' write when we's born,” said Billy. “If I was God I'd make all my babies so's they is already eddicated when they gits born. ”

“ Billy hesitated.
“You-all 'bout the skeeriest folks they is,” sneered Jimmy. “Mama'll whip me going and coming if she finds out 'bout it, but I ain't skeered. I dare anybody to dare me to clam' up.”
“I dare you to climb this ladder,” responded an accommodating Frances.
“I ain't never tooken a dare yet,” boasted the little boy proudly, his foot on the bottom rung. “Who's going to foller me?”
“Don't we have fun?” cried a jubilant Frances.
“Yes,” answered Jimmy; “if grown folks don't all time be watching you and sticking theirselfs in your way.” ”

“ Gimme Doctor Sanford's office, please.”
“Hello! Is that you, Doctor? This is me. Mr. Algernon Jones done kilt Miss Minerva's beau. He's on her back-porch bloody all over. He's 'bout the deadest man they is. You 'd better come toreckly you can and bring the hearse, and a coffin and a clean shirt and a tombstone. He's wounded me but I ain't dead yet. Good-bye.”
Doctor Sanford received Jimmy's crazy message in astonishment. He, too, rang the telephone again and again but could hear nothing more, so he walked down to Miss Minerva's house and rang the door-bell. ”

“ You want everything I got. You want Miss Cecilia and you want Sam Lamb. Well, you just ain't a-going to have 'em. You got to get somebody else for your partner and sweetheart.”
“Well, you jest wait an' see,” said Billy. “I got Major Minerva.”
“Shucks, they ain't no Major name' that away,” and Jimmy changed the subject. “Sam Lamb's sow's got seven little pigs. He lemme see 'em suck,” said Sam Lamb's partner proudly. “He's got a cow, too; she's got the worrisomest horns ever was. I believe she's a steer anyway.” ”

“ We'll let you have some of our paint, Billy. My mama's got 'bout a million diff'ent kinds.”
“We got to have pipes,” was Frances's next suggestion.
“My papa's got 'bout a million pipes,” boasted Jimmy, “but he got 'em all to the office, I spec'.”
“Father has a meerschaum.”
“Aunt Minerva ain't got no pipe.”
“Miss Minerva's 'bout the curiousest woman they is,” said Jimmy; “she ain't got nothing a tall; she ain't got no paint and she ain't got no pipe.”
“Ladies don't use pipes, and we can do without them anyway,” said Lina, “but we must have feathers; all Indians wear feathers.” ”

“ Then the Lord say, 'William Tell, you and Adam and Eve can taste everything they is in the garden 'cepting this one apple tree; you can get all the pears and bunnanas and peaches and grapes and oranges and plums and persimmons and scalybarks and fig leaves and 'bout a million other kinds of fruit if you want to, but don't you tech a single apple.' And the Devil temp' him and say he going to put his cap on a pole and everybody got to bow down to it for a idol and if William Tell don't bow down to it he got to shoot a apple for good or evil off 'm his little boy's head. ”

“ Jimmy exclaimed; “you all time got to fall down and get paint on your dress so we can't 'ceive nobody. Now our mamas bound to know 'bout us clamming up here.”
“They would know it anyhow,” mourned Lina; “we'll never get this paint off of our feet. We had better get right down and see if we can't wash some of it off.”
While they were talking the owner of the ladder, who had not noticed them—and was deaf in the bargain—had quietly removed it from the back-porch and carried it around to the front of the house. ”

“ It's a someping that grows in your nose and has to be named what you's named. She's named Miss Pollie and she's got a polypus.”
“I'm mighty glad my mama ain't got no Eva-pus in her head,” was Jimmy's comment. “Ain't you glad, Billy, your Aunt Minerva ain't got no Miss Minervapus?”
“I sho' is,” fervently replied Miss Minerva's nephew; “she's hard 'nough to manage now like she is.”
“I'm awful good to Miss Pollie,” said Frances. “I take her someping good to eat 'most every day. I took her two pieces of pie this morning ”

“ Jimmy and Billy were playing in Sarah Jane's cabin, she, however, being in happy ignorance of the fact. Her large stays, worn to the preaching the night before, were hanging on the back of a chair. “Ain't I glad I don' have to wear no corset when I puts on long pants?” remarked Billy, pointing to the article. “Ain't that a big one? It's twice's big's Aunt Minerva's.”
“My mama wears a big co'set, too,” said Jimmy; “I like fat womans 'nother sight better 'n lean ones. Miss Minerva's 'bout the skinniest woman they is ”

“ They so weakly they got to be hatched in a nincubator.”
“What's that?” questioned Frances.
“That's a someping what you hatches chickens and babies in when they's delicate, and ain't got 'nough breath and ain't got they eyes open and ain't got no feathers on,” explained Jimmy.
“Reckon we can see 'em?” she asked.
“See nothing!” sniffed the little boy. “Ever sence Billy let Mr. Algernon Jones whack Miss Minerva's beau we can't do nothing at all 'thout grown folks 'r' stuck right under your nose. I'm jes' cramped to death.” ”

“ Billy's head was swathed in a huge, white cloth; his usually lean little cheeks were puffed out till he resembled a young hippopotamus, and his pretty grey eyes were almost invisible.
“You better git 'way f'om me an' don't tech 'em, like I tells you,” he reiterated. “Aunt Minerva say you ain't never had 'em an' she say fer me to make you keep 'way f'om me 'cause you ain't a ol' chile like what I is.”
“You ain't but six,” retorted angry Jimmy, “and I'll be six next month; you all time trying to 'suade little boys to think you're 'bout a million years old. What's the matter with you, anyhow? ”

“ What's yo' name?”
“I'm Jimmy Garner. How old are you? I'm most six, I am.”
“Shucks, I's already six, a-going on seven. Come on, le's swing.”
“Can't,” said the new acquaintance, “I've runned off once to-day, and got licked for it.”
“I ain't never got no whippin' sence me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln 's born,” boasted Billy.
“Ain't you?” asked Jimmy. “I 'spec' I been whipped more 'n a million times, my mama is so pertic'lar with me. She's 'bout the pertic'larest woman ever was; she don't 'low me to leave the yard 'thout I get a whipping. ”

“ Huccome him to be bald? He's out in the fiel' one day a-pickin' cotton when he see a tu'key buzzard an' he talk to her like this:
“'I say tu'key buzzard, I say, Who shall I see unexpected today?'
“If she flop her wings three times you goin' to see yo' sweetheart, but this-here buzzard ain't flop no wings 't all; she jes' lean over an' th'ow up on his head an' he been bald ever sence; ev'y single hair come out.”
“Did you-all hear 'bout that 'Talian Dago that works on the section gang eating a buzzard?” asked Frances.
“Naw,” said Billy. “Did it make him sick?” ”

“ Billy sullenly gave her the promise and she went back to her baking.
“That's always the way now,” he said, meeting his little neighbor at the fence, “ever sence Aunt Minerva got onto this-here promisin' business, I don' have no freedom 't all. It's 'William, promise me this,' an' it's 'William, don't ferget yo' promise now,' tell I's jes' plumb sick 'n tired of it. She know I ain't goin' back on my word an' she jest nachelly gits the 'vantage of me; she 'bout the hardest 'oman to manage I ever seen sence I's born.” ”