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"I don't know what got into Jeremiah last night," said Grandmother. "I heard something myself, and Esmerelda declares he ran about the house like one possessed. This morning we heard him in the attic." Hortense, eating her egg and toast, thought she might tell Grandmother of last night's surprising events, but of course she wouldn't be believed. So on second thought she said nothing.
"There's something catlike about a teakettle," Hortense reflected. "It likes to sit in a warm place and purr. And it likes any one who will give it what it wants. Its love is cupboard love." "Dinner isn't until seven," said Grandmother, "so perhaps you'd like to go to the kitchen and see Esmerelda, the cook, Uncle Jonah's wife.
"A little," Hortense replied truthfully, "but I think it was because Aunt Esmerelda was so afraid." Grandpa looked at her, smiling under his bushy eyebrows. "Would you go down to the storeroom and get me an apple if I gave you something nice for your own?" he asked. "Don't, Keith," said Grandma sharply. "You'll frighten the child." "I don't want her to be afraid in the dark," said Grandpa.
Hortense doted on ginger cookies. "De's de jar," said Aunt Esmerelda, pointing to a big crock on the pantry shelf. "Whenevah yo's hongry, jes' yo' he'p yo'se'f." Hortense sat on a chair in the corner, out of the way, and watched Aunt Esmerelda cook. "What was the thing you and Uncle Jonah heard?" she asked at last abruptly. "Wha's dat?" Aunt Esmerelda said, dropping a saucepan with a clatter.
I was getting few more than usual just now because I was going to share them with some friends of mine. I really wouldn't try to eat these all by myself." "Hermpf," snorted Aunt Esmerelda. "I suppose yo' friends include dat good for nuttin' Andy, whose all da time botherin' Uncle Jonas hawses. But dats all right, chile; ef you likes my cookies, you jus hep yoself to dem. Dat's what day is fo."
"I'll wait all right," said the boy. "Don't you be too long. It's dark in here." "The dark won't hurt you," said Hortense, but to this the boy only snorted by way of reply. Hortense peeped cautiously into the kitchen. Aunt Esmerelda was seated in her chair, fast asleep. "What luck," thought Hortense, and she tiptoed across the kitchen to the cellar door.
Whoffo you wants all those cookies, girl? Doan you-all know you might git sick a-eatin' so much?" Hortense had to do some very fast thinking, now, for she knew she didn't dare scare poor old Aunt Esmerelda by telling her the cookies were magic. So she said, "Please, Aunt Esmerelda, don't be angry. Your cookies are just so good I could eat them all day without getting sick.
Slipping away to the kitchen when breakfast was over, she found Jeremiah begging for his breakfast and Aunt Esmerelda regarding him with hands on hips, shaking her head. "Yo' sho' is possessed," said Aunt Esmerelda. "Such carrying on I never heard. I spec's de evil one was after yo', an' I hopes he catches yo' and takes yo' away wid him."
Among my other enterprises I had an ambition to become a practical housekeeper in case I might some day be married to a poor man, and have a family to bake and brew for with my own hands. When I entered the kitchen I found her more than usually busy, with both Reynolds and Esmerelda pressed into the service. "Shall we ever get all your dainties eaten? Won't they spoil on your hands?"
Hortense squirmed uneasily and wished somebody could help Aunt Esmerelda get a new grater. But she couldn't tell the cook where the grater was, or how it got there, or poor old Aunt Esmerelda might leave and never come back, frightened as she was of spooks and similar things.
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