ways been so. She never could argue or disagree with the kind old soul. She always wanted to say whatever was the best-mannered thing. Even when she was a little motherless child running around, living from house to house in the Quarters, petted, spoiled, loved by every one there, Maum Hannah's disapproval cut her to the very quick.
"You is a sweet-talkin sinner, Si May-e, but I know how much you promises mean. Promisin talk don' cook rice."
"I'm gwine to change," Mary spoke earnestly.
"Please, honey, change. Try to's cape Hell if you can."
Mary met the old eyes bravely, and her voice was steady as she declared solemnly, "I'm gwine to change, Auntie. Satan ain' gwine never put his hands on me. Not never." Her words were eager with kindness for she loved Maum Hannah dearly.
"I wouldn' pester you, May-e, if I didn' love you."
"You is right to pester me, an' I tank you fo it. Soon as you learn de new way to birth chillen, you come practise em on me de first one. No matter how bad it is, I'll do anyting you say, Auntie. Anyting in Gawd's world."
"Except leavin off sin. But you wait: Gawd'll
