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Updated: June 21, 2025
Once in the night he told Frances that he thought the angels must look like her. "You are so sweet pretty," he said gravely. "I never saw anyone so pretty, not even Miss C'rona. You look like a picture I once saw on Mr. Sherwood's table when I was up at the manse one day 'fore I got so bad I couldn't walk. It was a woman with a li'l baby in her arms and a kind of rim round her head.
Just as if plain "Charlotte" were not good enough for her, and much more suitable to "Smith" too! Ordinarily Miss Corona would not have given in. But the case was urgent; she could not stand upon her dignity just now. "Charlotta!" she called entreatingly. Instantly Charlotta flew to the garden gate and raced up to the door. "Yes'm," she said meekly. "You want me, Miss C'rona?"
"I will come every day, Jacky," she said; and a look of ineffable content came over the thin little face. He put up his hand and touched her cheek. "I knew you were good as good as Miss C'rona, and she is an angel. I love you." When morning came Frances went home. It was raining, and the sea was hidden in mist.
"What have you done this time?" asked Miss Corona, without the slightest intention of being humorous or sarcastic. "I've I've bruk your green and yaller bowl," sniffed Charlotta. "Didn't mean to, Miss C'rona. It jest slipped out so fashion 'fore I c'd grab holt on it. And it's bruk into forty millyun pieces. Ain't I the onluckiest girl?" "You certainly are," sighed Miss Corona.
The three colored people saw her at once, and, with the unconventionally of their old servitude, shouted out in chorus: "How do, Miss C'rona?" "Sarvint, Miss C'rona!" "Didn't 'spect to see we dem come trapesin' arter yer 'way out yere, did yer now?" And they also grinned and bobbed, and bobbed and grinned, between every word, as they tumbled off their seats and ran to meet her. Mr.
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