."

So Billy departed on his trip. When he had been gone four days and no
message from him had come, Miss Ann was plainly a little uneasy about
the old man.

"You ain't called on to be worried," said Mrs. Buck. "That old man can
take care of himself all right. I must say I never expected the time
to come when I'd confess to missing a darkey, but Uncle Billy is a
heap of help around the place. He saves Judy a lot of work--things she
never would let me do. I certainly hope nothing has happened to him."

Nothing had--at least nothing that his mistress or Mrs. Buck could
have feared. When Judith went to the kitchen on Sunday morning, the
one day she allowed herself to relax, she found the fire crackling in
the stove and the kettle filled and ready to boil. Standing by the
table, rolling out biscuit, was a small, old mulatto woman, wiry and
erect. She was dressed in a stiff, purple calico dress and on her
head was a bandanna handkerchief, the ends tied in front and standing
up like rabbit ears.

Uncle Billy looked at Judith and grinned sheepishly. "Miss Judy, this
air Mandy!"

"How do you do, Aunt Mandy? I am so glad you have come to help me. You
have come for that, have you not?"

The old woman continued to roll the dough and cut out the biscuit with
a brisk motion, at the same time looking keenly at Judith.

"Yes, I reckon that's what I come for mostly, and at the same time I
come somewhat to be holped myself. As soon as I git these here
biscuits in the oven I'll tell you what Billy air too shamefaced to
own up to."

She whisked the biscuits into the oven and then proceeded, "Billy air
kinder new to this business, but bein' as it's my fifth I'm kinder
used to it. Billy an' me done got ma'id yesterday."

"Got what?"

"Ma'id! I'm his wedded wife. He done come down to Jefferson County
courtin', an' bein' as I done buried my fo'th jes' las' year I up'n
says yes as quick as a flash. I reckon Billy's been 'lowin' that so
long as he couldn't be my fust, owin' to delays an' happenin's, he'd
make out to be my las'. I been kinder expectin' that Billy'd come
along for fifty-odd years an' every time I'd git a chance to git ma'id
I'd kinder put it off, thinkin' he mought turn up, an' every time I'd
bury a husband I'd say to myself, 'Now maybe this time Billy'll be
comin' along.' I been namin' my chilluns arfter him off an' on.
There's Bill an' Billy an' Bildad an' William an' Willy an' one er my
gals is named Willymeeter.