hair o' yo' head perish."

But mammy pondered in her heart much concerning the financial outlook,
and it was on the day after this conversation that she dressed herself
with unusual care, and, without announcing her errand, started out.

Her return soon brought its own explanation, however, for upon her old
head she bore a huge bundle of unlaundered clothing.

"What in the world!" exclaimed Evelyn; but before she could voice a
protest, mammy interrupted her.

"Nuver you mind, baby! I des waked up," she exclaimed, throwing her
bundle at the kitchen door. "I been preachin' ter you 'bout teckin'
hints, an' 'ain't been readin' my own lesson. Huccome we got dis heah
nice sunny back yard, an' dis bustin' cisternful o' rain-water? Huccome
de boa'din'-house folks at de corner keeps a-passin' an' a-passin' by
dis gate wid all dey fluted finery on, ef 'twarn't ter gimme a hint dat
dey's wealth a-layin' at de do', an' me, bline as a bat, 'ain't seen
it?"

"Oh, but, mammy, you can't take in washing. You are too old; it is too
hard. You _mustn't_--"

"Ef-ef-ef-ef you gits obstropulous, I-I-I gwine whup yer, sho. Y-y-yer
know how much money's a-comin' out'n dat bundle, baby? _Five dollars!_"
This in a stage-whisper. "An' not a speck o' dirt on nothin'; des baby
caps an' lace doin's rumpled up."

"How did you manage it, mammy?"

"Well, baby, I des put on my fluted ap'on--an' you know it's ironed
purty--an' my clair-starched neck-hankcher, an'--an' _my business face_,
an' I helt up my head an' walked in, an' axed good prices, an' de
ladies, dee des tooken took one good look at me, an' gimme all I'd
carry. You know washin' an' ironin' is my pleasure, baby."

It was useless to protest, and so, after a moment, Evelyn began rolling
up her sleeves.

"I am going to help you, mammy," she said, quietly but firmly; but
before she could protest, mammy had gathered her into her arms, and
carried her into her own room. Setting her down at her desk, she
exclaimed:

"Now, ef _you_ goes ter de wash-tub, dey ain't nothin' lef fur _me_ ter
do but 'cep'n' ter _set down an' write de story_, an' you know I can't
do it."

"But, mammy, I _must_ help you."

"Is you gwine _meck_ me whup yer, whe'r ur no, baby? Now I gwine meck a
bargain wid yer. _You_ set down an' write, an' _I_ gwine play de pianner
on de washboa'd, an' to-night you can read off what yer done put down,
an' ef yer done written it purty an' sweet, you can come an' turn de
fl