Experiencing the benevolent warmth that comes of assisting in a
good action, she ascended to an apartment upstairs, and, for a
couple of hours, employed herself with needle and thread in
sartorial repairs on behalf of her husband and Sam. Then she was
interrupted by the advent of a coloured serving-maid.
"Miz Williams, I reckon the house goin' fall down!" this
pessimist said, arriving out of breath. "That s'iety o' Mist'
Sam's suttenly tryin' to pull the roof down on ow haids!"
"The roof?" Mrs. Williams inquired mildly. "They aren't in the
attic, are they?"
"No'm; they in the celluh, but they REACHIN' fer the roof! I nev'
did hear no sech a rumpus an' squawkin' an' squawlin' an' fallin'
an' whoopin' an' whackin' an' bangin'! They troop down by the
outside celluh do', n'en--bang!--they bus' loose, an' been goin'
on ev' since, wuss'n Bedlun! Ef they anything down celluh ain'
broke by this time, it cain' be only jes' the foundashum, an' I
bet THAT ain' goin' stan' much longer! I'd gone down an' stop
'em, but I'm 'fraid to. Hones', Miz Williams, I'm 'fraid o' my
life go down there, all that Bedlun goin' on.
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