"'Here's a pretty hurrahs nest,' sais she, 'let me see one of you dare
to lay hands on this brave pickininny. He is more of a man than the
whole bilin' of you put together. My poor child,' said she, 'they have
used you scandalous, ridiculous,' and she held down her nasty oily
shiny face and kissed me, till she nearly smothered me. Oh, Doctor, I
shall never forget that scene the longest day I ever live. She might a
been Rose by name, but she warn't one by nature, I tell you. When
niggers get their dander raised, and their ebenezer fairly up, they
ain't otter of roses, that's a fact; whatever Mrs Stowe may say. Oh, I
kicked and yelled and coughed like anything.
"'Poor dear boy,' she said, 'Rosy ain't a goin' to hurt her own brave
child,' not she, and she kissed me again and again, till I thought I
should have fainted. She actually took away my breath.
"'Come,' said she, and she set me down on my feet. 'Come to the house,
till I put some dry clothes on you, and I'll make some lasses candy
for you with my own hands!' But as soon as I touched land, I streaked
off for home, as hard as I could lay legs to the ground; but the
perfume of old Rose set me a sneezing so, I fairly blew up the dust in
the road as I went, as if a bull had been pawin of it, and left a
great wet streak behind me as if a watering-pot had passed that way.
Who should I meet when I returned, but mother a standin at the door.
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