Missis has spilt lots dat ar way," said Dinah, coming uneasily to the
drawers. "If missis only will go up-sta'rs till my clarin'-up time
comes, I'll have everything right; but I can't do nothin' when ladies is
'round a-henderin'. You Sam, don't you gib de baby dat ar sugar-bowl!
I'll crack ye over, if ye don't mind!"
"I'm going through the kitchen, and going to put everything in order,
_once_, Dinah; and then I'll expect you to _keep_ it so."
"Lor', now, Miss 'Phelia, dat ar ain't no way for ladies to do. I never
did see ladies doin' no sich; my old missis nor Miss Marie never did,
and I don't see no kinder need on't." And Dinah stalked indignantly
about, while Miss Ophelia piled and sorted dishes, emptied dozens of
scattering bowls of sugar into one receptacle, sorted napkins,
table-cloths, and towels, for washing; washing, wiping and arranging
with her own hands, and with a speed and alacrity which perfectly amazed
Dinah.
"Lor', now! if dat ar de way dem Northern ladies do, dey ain't ladies
nohow," she said to some of her satellites, when at a safe
hearing-distance. "I has things as straight as anybody, when my
clarin'-up times comes; but I don't want ladies 'round a-henderin' and
gettin' my things all where I can't find 'em.
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