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He began to hoard his pennies, and one day Uncle Carey found a pile of seventeen under a corner of the carpet. Usually he carried to Dinnie all coins that he found in the street, but he showed one day that he was going into the ball- business for himself. Uncle Carey had given Dinnie a nickel for some candy, and, as usual, Satan trotted down the street behind her.
If he were only at home now, and if he only had known how his little mistress was weeping for him amid her playthings and his two new balls and a brass-studded collar with a silver plate on which was his name, Satan Dean; and if Dinnie could have seen him now, her heart would have broken; for the tall boy raised his gun.
He didn't bark for change, nor beg for two balls, but he had got it in his woolly little head, somehow, that in that store a coin meant a ball, though never before nor afterward did he try to get a ball for a penny. Satan slept in Uncle Carey's room, for of all people, after Dinnie, Satan loved Uncle Carey best.
Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding-places to shout "Christmas Gif' Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan Uncle Carey, Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Billy, but I des got to whoop you a little." "Let Uncle Billy off, Dinnie," said Uncle Carey, "this is Christmas." "All wite," said Dinnie, and she turned to Satan. In his shining new collar and innocent as a cherub, Satan sat on the hearth begging for his breakfast. This is the simple character sketch in which there is romance treated with a fine reserve.
Then she went into the breakfast-room. "Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty out?" "Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler. "Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?" "Yes, Miss Dinnie." Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror.
Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding places to shout "Christmas Gif Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan Uncle Carey, Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house.
If Uncle Carey, after supper and when Dinnie was in bed, started out of the house, still in his business clothes, Satan would leap out before him, knowing that he too might be allowed to go; but if Uncle Carey had put on black clothes that showed a big, dazzling shirt-front, and picked up his high hat, Satan would sit perfectly still and look disconsolate; for as there were no parties or theatres for Dinnie, so there were none for him.
He'd been a spieler, fighting man, bush parson, temperance preacher, and a policeman, and a commercial traveller, and everything else that was damnable; he'd been a journalist, and an editor; he'd been a lawyer, too. He was an ugly brute to look at, and uglier to have a row with about six-foot-six, wide in proportion, and stronger than Donald Dinnie.
He sold him to you for for a drink of whiskey." The man whistled. "Bring him out. I'll pay his license." So back went Satan and the little cur to Grandmother Dean's and Dinnie cried when Uncle Carey told her why he was taking the little cur along. With her own hands she put Satan's old collar on the little brute, took him to the kitchen, and fed him first of all.
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