LEB. Do you mean you earn your own living?
M.-M. Co'se I does! I runs a'rons fo' Mam' Dilcey--dat's you-all's cook--an' I does chores. An' Mam' Dilcey she treats me pretty good--dat is, mos'ly. [_Rubs her ear reminiscently._]
M.-M. Oh, mos' anywheres. [_Sidles nearer to him._] I lak yo' hearf-rug fust-rate, Marse Henry.
LEB. Oh, you do? [_Aside._] Part of the C'ris'mus gif', I suppose. [_To her._] Well, Minty-Malviny, my sister, Mrs. Courvoisier, is here now. In a few weeks she will be going to her own home--a fine great house, with a big garden--more like your ole Mis's plantation, you know. How would you like to go and live with her, and wait on her, and help mind her baby?
M.-M. Dat do soun' mighty scrumptious! But--Marse Henry---- [_looking at him shyly from the corners of her eyes_] ef it's all er same to _you_--I'd er heap druther be yo'r li'l' nigger. [_Suddenly turns and kneels at his feet._]
LEB. [_taken aback, turns away and walks down stage_]. Well--this turn of affairs looks rather more like my sock than Laura's stocking! [_Turns to her again._] But what about Alphonse?
M.-M. [_with concentrated scorn_]. Dat French nigger! Why---- [_very rapidly_] he cain't eben mek a fiah!
[_There is a rush from the door. Enter the children, followed by_ LAURA. _The children throw themselves upon_ LEBRETON _with enthusiastic shouts._
CHILDREN. Christmas gift, Uncle! Christmas gift!
LEB. I've no breath left to say Merry Christmas, you young bears! [_Shakes them off, laughing._] Unhand me, villains! I want to tell you something. There is somebody else here. Minty-Malviny, this is my sister, Mrs. Courvoisier [MINTY-MALVINY _courtesies to them all, with little bobs of her head_], and these are my nieces, Miss Louise and Miss Annette. And here is my nephew, Master Philip Courvoisier. [_Sits down, with_ PHILIP _on his knee._] Children, when you go home, Minty-Malviny is going with you, to look after you, and play games, and tell stories.
LOUISE [_aside_]. Oh, Mother, how ragged she is!
LOUISE. Are those your Christmas presents?
PHILIP. Was your stocking just awful full?
LOUISE. What nice things--did Santa Claus leave them for you?
M.-M. Yes'm. Ole Santa Claus done brung 'em, an' I never 'lowed he'd gib 'em to no pickaninny [_with lowered voice_], so I powd'ed myse'f up an' let on lak I'ze er white chile!