I repeated my request.
Philander: "Well, I guess I shan't hurt the young 'un. You can
dress her."
I: "But not with you here."
Philander: "Why not? WE never do anything that we are ashamed of."
I: "So it seems. But I want to sweep the room - you had better get
out of the dust."
I took the broom from the corner, and began to sweep; still my
visitor did not stir. The dust rose in clouds; he rubbed his eyes,
and moved a little nearer to the door. Another sweep, and, to escape
its inflictions, he mounted the threshold. I had him now at a fair
advantage, and fairly swept him out, and shut the door in his face.
Philander (looking through the window ): "Well, I guess you did me
then; but 'tis deuced hard to outwit a Yankee."
This freed me from his company, and he, too, never repeated his
visit; so I found by experience, that once smartly rebuked, they did
not like to try their strength with you a second time.
When a sufficient time had elapsed for the drying of my twenty
bushels of apples, I sent a Cornish lad, in our employ, to Betty
Fye's, to inquire if they were ready, and when I should send the
cart for them.
Dan returned with a yellow, smoke-dried string of pieces, dangling
from his arm. Thinking that these were a specimen of the whole, I
inquired when we were to send the barrel for the rest.
"Lord, ma'am, this is all there be."
"Impossible! All out of twenty bushels of apples!"
"Yes," said the boy, with a grin. "The old witch told me that this
was all that was left of your share; that when they were fixed
enough, she put them under her bed for safety, and the mice and the
children had eaten them all up but this string."
This ended my dealings with Betty Fye.
I had another incorrigible borrower in the person of old Betty B - -.
This Betty was unlike the rest of my Yankee borrowers; she was
handsome in her person, and remarkably civil, and she asked for the
loan of everything in such a frank, pleasant manner, that for some
time I hardly knew how to refuse her. After I had been a loser to a
considerable extent, and declined lending her any more, she
refrained from coming to the house herself, but sent in her name the
most beautiful boy in the world; a perfect cherub, with regular
features, blue, smiling eyes, rosy cheeks, and lovely curling auburn
hair, who said, in the softest tones imaginable, that mammy had sent
him, with her compliments, to the English lady to ask the loan of a
little sugar or tea.
