Around it all was a rusty iron fence. The
place had the air of genteel ruin, such as one finds in the
Virginias.
On a Thursday of November, about three o'clock in the afternoon, a
little man, driving a dray, stopped in the alley at the rear of the
house. As he opened the back gate an old negro woman came down the
steps from the kitchen and demanded to know what he wanted. The
drayman asked if the lady of the house was in. The old negro
answered that she was asleep at this hour and could not be seen.
"That is good," said the little man, "now there won't be any row.
I brought up some cases of wine which she ordered from our house
last week and which the Boss told me to deliver at once, but I
forgot it until to-day. Just let me put it in the cellar now,
Auntie, and don't say a word to the lady about it and she won't
ever know that it was not brought up on time."
The drayman stopped, fished a silver dollar out of his pocket, and
gave it to the old negro. "There now, Auntie," he said, "my job
depends upon the lady not knowing about this wine; keep it mum."
"Dat's all right, honey," said the old servant, beaming like a May
morning.
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