Gentle Julia | Page 5

light and blue shadow was laid like a fanciful plaid
over the lattice and the wide, slightly sagging steps of the elderly "back
porch"; and here, taking her ease upon these steps, sat a middle-aged
coloured woman of continental proportions. Beyond all contest, she
was the largest coloured woman in that town, though her height was
not unusual, and she had a rather small face. That is to say, as Florence
had once explained to her, her face was small but the other parts of her
head were terribly wide. Beside her was a circular brown basket, of a
type suggesting arts-and-crafts; it was made with a cover, and there was
a bow of brown silk upon the handle.
"What you been up to to-day, Kitty Silver?" Herbert asked genially.
"Any thing special?" For this was the sequel to his "so's we can see if
Kitty Silver's got anything." But Mrs. Silver discouraged him.
"No, I ain't," she replied. "I ain't, an' I ain't goin' to."
"I thought you pretty near always made cookies on Tuesday," he said.

"Well, I ain't this Tuesday," said Kitty Silver. "I ain't, and I ain't goin' to.
You might dess well g'on home ri' now. I ain't, an' I ain't goin' to."
Docility was no element of Mrs. Silver's present mood, and Herbert's
hopeful eyes became blank, as his gaze wandered from her head to the
brown basket beside her. The basket did not interest him; the ribbon
gave it a quality almost at once excluding it from his consciousness. On
the contrary, the ribbon had drawn Florence's attention, and she stared
at the basket eagerly.
"What you got there, Kitty Silver?" she asked.
"What I got where?"
"In that basket."
"Nemmine what I got 'n 'at basket," said Mrs. Silver crossly, but added
inconsistently: "I dess wish somebody ast me what I got 'n 'at basket! I
ain't no cat-washwoman fer nobody!"
"Cats!" Florence cried. "Are there cats in that basket, Kitty Silver? Let's
look at 'em!"
The lid of the basket, lifted by the eager, slim hand of Miss Atwater,
rose to disclose two cats of an age slightly beyond kittenhood. They
were of a breed unfamiliar to Florence, and she did not obey the
impulse that usually makes a girl seize upon any young cat at sight and
caress it. Instead, she looked at them with some perplexity, and after a
moment inquired: "Are they really cats, Kitty Silver, do you b'lieve?"
"Cats what she done tole me," the coloured woman replied. "You betta
shet lid down, you don' wan' 'em run away, 'cause they ain't yoosta
livin' 'n 'at basket yit; an' no matter whut kine o' cats they is or they isn't,
one thing true: they wile cats!"
"But what makes their hair so long?" Florence asked. "I never saw cats
with hair a couple inches long like that."

"Miss Julia say they Berjum cats."
"What?"
"I ain't tellin' no mo'n she tole me. You' aunt say they Berjum cats."
"Persian," said Herbert. "That's nothing. I've seen plenty Persian cats.
My goodness, I should think you'd seen a Persian cat at yow age.
Thirteen goin' on fourteen!"
"Well, I have seen Persian cats plenty times, I guess," Florence said. "I
thought Persian cats were white, and these are kind of gray."
At this Kitty Silver permitted herself to utter an embittered laugh. "You
wrong!" she said. "These cats, they white; yes'm!"
"Why, they aren't either! They're gray as----"
"No'm," said Mrs. Silver. "They plum spang white, else you' Aunt Julia
gone out her mind; me or her, one. I say: 'Miss Julia, them gray cats.'
'White,' she say. 'Them two cats is white cats,' she say. 'Them cats been
crated,' she say. 'They been livin' in a crate on a dirty express train fer
th'ee fo' days,' she say. 'Them cats gone got all smoke' up thataway,' she
say. 'No'm, Miss Julia,' I say, 'No'm, Miss Julia, they ain't no train,' I
say, 'they ain't no train kin take an' smoke two white cats up like these
cats so's they hair is gray clean plum up to they hide.' You betta put the
lid down, I tell you!"
Florence complied, just in time to prevent one of the young cats from
leaping out of the basket, but she did not fasten the cover. Instead, she
knelt, and, allowing a space of half an inch to intervene between the
basket and the rim of the cover, peered within at the occupants. "I
believe the one to this side's a he," she said. "It's got greenisher eyes
than the other one; that's the way you can always tell. I b'lieve this one's
a he and the other one's a she."
"I ain't stedyin' about no he an' she!"

"What did Aunt Julia say?" Florence