"Where do you keep your nutmegs, Dinah?" said Miss Ophelia, with the air
of one who "prayed for patience."
"Most anywhar, missis; there's some in that cracked tea-cup up there,
and there's some over in that ar cupboard."
"Here are some in the grater," said Miss Ophelia, holding them up.
"Laws, yes; I put 'em there this morning; I likes to keep my things
handy," said Dinah. "You Jake! what are you stopping for? You'll cotch
it! Be still, thar!" she added, with a dive of her stick at the
criminal.
"What's this?" said Miss Ophelia, holding up the saucer of pomade.
"Laws, it's my _har-grease_: I put it thar to have it handy."
"Do you use your mistress's best saucers for that?"
"Law! it was 'cause I was driv' and in sich a hurry. I was gwine to
change it this very day."
"Here are two damask table-napkins."
"Them table-napkins I put thar to get 'em washed out some day."
"Don't you have some place here on purpose for things to be washed?"
"Well, Mas'r St. Clair got dat ar chest, he said, for dat; but I likes
to mix up biscuit and hev my things on it some days, and then it ain't
handy a-liftin' up the lid.
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