I's done
j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves."
"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy.
"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple calicoes and
sets up wid de sick."
"Have you seen Miss Annette?"
"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge was
shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she gwine run
off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De doctor headed
'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you think he done? He put
dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say she cut up scan'lous at
fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin to count her necklace, an'
make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' say she lak it so much she
gwine be a Cafolic nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes
tearin' his shirt to git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she
says."
Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her head
knowingly.
"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to die,
an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on Mr. Sid
Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep dat gal from
shinin' her eyes at de boys!"
"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave.
"Yas, sir; so dey say.
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