ebber see dat 'pears good nuff for such a most sweet infant."
As the Missus was silent, and even this flattery was thrown away on her, the plaint was resumed, but in another key.
"Missus"—angrily and reproachfully—"you no care for de Massa as I do, or you no dress him in de ugly grey dress." Another pause. "Missus, dear, nice Missus, let him hab de pretty cloak all red an' green. Jest dis once, Missus!"
But the Missus was like adamant, and the baffled Justina departed on her walk with Billy in his ordinary attire, and her own black eyes brimming over with disappointed tears. Generally, however, she was the merriest of creatures, and even on this occasion, by the time of her return had forgotten all her troubles, and was ready for the lengthy ceremonial of inducing the little Massa to sleep quietly during the heat of the day.
She was accustomed to sing to him for hours strange little snatches of Creole songs, none of them in the least like the so-called "nigger-melodies" that are in vogue in England.
Justina's songs were all rather sad, even when the words were gay, and
