“Well, honey,” said one meek-looking woman, “don’t le’s borry trouble. The way the committee has fixed the bisness I cayn’t see how thar can be eny monkeyin’ with the votin’ or sellin’ o’ the tickets. I do declar’, my dear, I think the right ones will git the prizes.”
“I’m a-doin’ my level best,” said another sister with hands hard and horny with toil, “I’m a-doin’ my level best to git that dimon’ pin fer my Mandy. I’ve got William Vanderbilt and Charles Sumner Astor Gould and the twins all out sellin’ tickets ’mong my white people. An’ I tell you, sisters, you’s all goin’ to have a hard time to git ’way with yer Aunt Hanner Jackson this time.”
The family surname was Jackson, but Mrs. Jackson liked to name her children for all the celebrities that she heard of, and sometimes it made a bewildering combination when one found that William Vanderbilt was represented by a sprightly little Negro boy with crispy hair and beadlike black eyes.
“That silver service is jes’ my size,” here chimed in another sister, “an’ it’s goin’ hard with anyone what tries to git it ’way from me; I’m sellin’ tickets to beat the ban. I’ve done picked out a sideboard fer it down to Osgood’s. I can git it fer a dollar down an’ a dollar a week, an’ expec’ to have it ef it takes me all the summer an’ winter ter pay fer it.”
“Talkin’ ’bout the prizes, ain’t yer?” spoke up another sister who had just joined the group, “thet gold watch an’ chain is jes’ what Jim Anderson wants. ‘Jim,’ I says to him, ‘thar’s yer chance fer a good easy way ter git yer a watch.’ He’s jes’ raisin’ heaven an’ earth a-gittin’ votes fer hisself.”
“Hope you all won’t be disapinted,” here Sister Robinson broke in again, “but ef yer listens to me you’ll watch them high-toned colored folks you all’s been gittin’ ter help yer. They never come ’roun’ people that they don’t hold on a ’quality with theirselves ’thout it means suthin’. These ejecated folks is allers lookin’ to make suthin’. Most o’ them’s too lazy to wurk. They wouldn’t tech a flatiron or a washtub with a ten-foot pole, an’ they’d ruther live on dried codfish fer a month than to do their own scrubbing. Ef eny o’ them white-folksey colored ladies gits them prizes, I’m goin’ fer to take out my letter, an’ put my wurk into some chuch what will presheate it; you hyar me!”
“Now sisters,” chimed in the meek one again, “none o’ yer ain’t said a word ’bout tryin’ to git one o’ the prizes fer yer pastor. I do think that’s a leetle bit selfish in us. S’pose we give him the pianny.”
“Hump!” grunted Sister Robinson, “when I jined this chuch I jined the meetin’-house an’ not the minister! I reckon he kin jes’ look out fer hisself; ’sides he’s got a orgin an’ don’t need a pianny. He gits his cellery, don’t he?” she queried, as she glared at the group about her. Taking their silence for consent she continued in a firm voice: “He’s too much everythin’ to everybody, an’ that wife o’ hisn is too white fer me. I used ter be takin’ fresh eggs an’ ham an’ chickuns out to that house all the time, but resuntly I’se been reasunin’ with myself, an’ I camed to the conclusion that I won’t do it no mo’. Can’t tell what is the matter with these colored men; a good wholesome-lookin’ colored woman with kinky hair don’t stan’ no livin’ chance ter git a decen’-lookin’ man fer a husban’, an’ I fer one am a-settin’ my face agin them men.”
“Purty much so, purty much so!” came from various ones in the group.
“Lord knows, Sis’ Robberson,” said Sister Scott, “may be you is right; an’ ef thar’s eny monkeyin’ goin’ on we’s all goin’ ter s’port yer in whatever yer thinks is the bes’ course.”
“All right,” replied Sister Robinson, considerably mollified by this concession. “I’ll jes’ take good care thet none o’ us gits imposed on. ’Phelia Davis an’ Sarah Ann White has got charge o’ the ’fectionery table an’ the salads, but ef I don’ knock ’em silly with roast pig, corn dodgers an’ biled cabbage, then I’m a sinner!”
Sister Robinson walked away, followed by a number of admiring satellites. Sister Scott and Sister Jackson were left alone.
“Good Lawd!” said Sister Scott to Sister Jackson, “Good Lawd! ’Mandy Jackson, did you hear Mary Jane Robberson talk? Thar ain’t nuthin’ the matter with her, only she’s ’fraid thet somebody’s gwine ter hol’ the money-draw fastened agin her. I tell yer them ‘400’ folks she’s runnin’ll keep a close watch on her an’ how much money she takes in at the ‘old Southern dinner-table,’ you hyar me!”
“An’ I fer one am glad of it,” replied Sister Jackson. “Mary Jane Robberson thinks she owns this chuch an’ everyone in it sence Mr. Jacobs lef’ John Robberson thet five hundred dollars, an’ they bo’t thet house out o’ town.”
“Bless yer soul, honey, thet’s jes’ so. I never see what a little posterity makes some people have a swell head. I tell yer, honey, we’d better all o’ us keep our eye on the money-draw. When folks gits to buyin’ houses—um, chile, watch ’em!”
On Monday evening the fair opened. At five o’clock in the morning all the women who could get there made their appearance at the church, where the janitor was waiting to receive them. The first floor of the building contained a large lecture-room, three classrooms, the pastor’s study, a dining-room and a kitchen. Each chairman of a committee had a certain space assigned to her by Ma Smith; then that committee took charge and proceeded to beautify the spot and arrange their wares for inspection. Ice cream, oysters, salads and temperance drinks
