"We's happy to see Miss Daisy at her own home. Hope de Lord bress her."
My heart warmed at these words like the ice-bound earth in a spring day. They were not carelessly spoken, nor was the welcome. My feet trod the greensward more firmly. Then all other thoughts were for the moment put to flight by Preston's calling for the pony and asking Darius what he thought of him, and Darry's answer.
"Very far, massa; very far. Him no good for not'ing."
While I pondered what this judgment might amount to, the pony was brought out. He was larger than Loupe, and had not Loupe's peculiar symmetry of mane and tail; he was a fat dumpy little fellow, sleek and short, dapple grey, with a good long tail and a mild eye. Preston declared he had no shape at all and was a poor concern of a pony; but to my eyes he was beautiful. He took one or two sugarplums from my hand with as much amenity as if we had been old acquaintances. Then a boy was put on him, who rode him up and down with a halter.
"For little missis? Just big enough, massa. Got no tricks at all, only he no like work. Not much spring in him."
"Daisy must take the whip, then. Come and let us go look at some of the country where you will ride. Are you tired, Daisy?"
"Oh, no," I said. "But wait a minute, Preston. Who lives in all those houses?"
"The people. The hands. They are away in the fields at work now."
"I should like to go nearer, and see the houses."
"Daisy, it is nothing on earth to see. They are all just alike; and you see them from here."
"I want to look in," I said, moving down the slope.
"Daisy," said Preston, you are just as fond of having your own way as "
"I suppose nobody thinks he is," grumbled Preston, following me, "except the fellows who can't get it."
I had by this time almost forgotten Miss Pinshon. I had almost come to think that Magnolia might be a pleasant place. In the intervals, when the pony was out of sight, I had improved my knowledge of the old coachman; and every look added to my liking. There was something I could not read that more and more drew me to him. A simplicity in his good manners, a placid expression in his gravity, a staid reserve in his humility, were all there; and more yet. Also the scene in the dell was charming to me. The ground about the negro cottages was kept neat; they were neatly built of stone and stood round the sides of a quadrangle; while on each side and below the wooded slopes of ground closed in the picture. Sunlight was streaming through and brightening up the cottages and resting on uncle Darry's swarth face. Down through the sunlight I went to the cottages. The first door stood open, and I looked in. At the next I was about to knock, but Preston pushed open the door for me; and so he did for a third and a fourth. Nobody was in them. I was a good deal disappointed. They were empty, bare, dirty, and seemed to me very forlorn. What a set of people my mother's hands must be, I thought. Presently I came upon a ring of girls, a little larger than I was, huddled together behind one of the cottages. There was no manners about them. They were giggling and grinning, hopping on one foot, and going into other awkward antics; not the less that most of them had their arms filled with little black babies. I had got enough for that day, and turning about left the dell with Preston.