skirt trimmed half-way up with narrow frills and the tucked waist trimmed with lace at the neck and sleeves made a garment that matched the wedding-cake in looks. Budda Ben had dug up all his buried savings to buy the cloth and to get the best seamstress on the plantation to make it, but it was worth every cent he paid out He said so himself when Mary tried it on to let him see how well it fitted.
She carefully licked off the sweet potato bits that stuck to her fingers, then squatted on the hearth close to the fire to warm good through and through before she put on her clothes. One good yawn, one good stretch, then she would dress fast and fetch the water and finish up whatever had to be done yet this morning. "You ever was like a cat, Si May-e; always stretchin. But after to-day, you ain' gwine have time to be gapin an' warmin, an' pleasurin youself in de mornins. You'll see."
Sister Mary stood up and slipped out of her night-gown, which dropped near to the pot Maum Hannah was stirring. The old woman looked up with a merry twinkle in her eyes. "Is you crazy, gal? Look how you duh fan ashes in de victuals. Fo Gawd's sake put on some clothes. You ain' to stand up buck naked like dat. You's a grown 'oman now. Is you forgot?"
