at me, “why sometimes he might be moody and sometimes he might have troubled days.”
“I’ve never noticed any moodiness. Perhaps he puts on a good show for me.”
“Yes, well, he’s much more like himself now, since you’ve come. You’re helping so much, my dear.” She patted my shoulder.“Eventually, though, you’re bound to experience his melancholy. He can’t help it, my poor master. He has always had a passionate temper, but since Anton passed away, he often becomes despondent as well. When he does, remember what he has been through and what a fine man he really is.”
She picked up the tray and plodded toward the door before hesitating and turning. “You do … you do
like
Master Bernard, don’t you?” Her eyes were intense and anxious.
“Of course I do. He’s wonderful.”
She bobbed her head, satisfied, and left the room.
The man came to work on the paneling in the east wing the day after Ducky disclosed M. Bernard’s history. She told me he was called Peg Leg Joe due, obviously, to the fact that he wore a wooden leg. He was a free black man who once was a sailor and who now traveled from plantation to plantation offering his services as a master carpenter.
I caught a glimpse or two of him as he came and went. He was an odd-looking fellow, extremely tall and thin, with hollow cheeks and one squinting eye. He added to his height by sporting a rusty black silk stovepipe hat along with his shabby workman’s clothing. There was something about the man that made me curious. He had a certain dignity and erectness in his bearing that invited attention.
After his arrival a new feeling sprang from the African servants. They seemed as stirred and shaken as if they were just now waking from a hundred-year sleep in an enchanted castle. Their movements quickened, and whispers and darting glances shot back and forth. An underlying excitement vibrated. No outsider but me would havenoticed. I noticed because I had no other occupation to distract me. Even Talitha, usually so calm, became absentminded and inattentive.
A few evenings after Peg Leg Joe came, I attempted, as usual, to chat with Talitha as she dressed me for dinner. At first she acted as if she didn’t hear me. When I persisted, she gave a sigh and said, “Please, Miss Sophia, you ain’t used to the way it be down here. Don’t try to be friends. I can’t be no friend to you. I’d pay the price if I tried. So please don’t talk to me that way no more.”
I felt as if I’d been slapped. Why should I not treat her normally? But if it would get her in trouble, I would stop trying.
When she fumbled in clasping my necklace, I asked hesitantly, “Will you at least tell me if something unusual is going on with the servants? Everyone’s acting so odd. Does it have something to do with Peg Leg Joe?”
She didn’t answer, and I gave her a feeble smile. “Never mind. I understand. Here, I’ll do that.” I took the necklace and tried to clasp it myself, but I could hardly make my fingers work, I was so busy blinking back tears. No wonder M. Bernard’s wives had been miserable, with my godfather gone all the time and no one willing to talk to them.
Talitha looked at me for a moment. Then she took back the necklace and fastened it firmly. “No, Miss, really, it ain’t nothing you’d be interested in. It’s only—there be a hallelujah meeting tonight. Peg Leg Joe, he a preacher, and everyone say he deliver a rip-roaring sermon. We excited about that. That’s all.”
“What’s a hallelujah meeting?”
She licked her lips. “One without white people. Where we can sing loud and worship as we see fit without bothering no one.”
I had thought they already sang loudly at the meeting I attended. “I hope you enjoy yourselves,” I said.
During supper I pondered the hallelujah meeting. It was not a coincidence that it was to be held when the master and Garvey were both gone. The head groom was not well liked among the servants. No,
“I’ve never noticed any moodiness. Perhaps he puts on a good show for me.”
“Yes, well, he’s much more like himself now, since you’ve come. You’re helping so much, my dear.” She patted my shoulder.“Eventually, though, you’re bound to experience his melancholy. He can’t help it, my poor master. He has always had a passionate temper, but since Anton passed away, he often becomes despondent as well. When he does, remember what he has been through and what a fine man he really is.”
She picked up the tray and plodded toward the door before hesitating and turning. “You do … you do
like
Master Bernard, don’t you?” Her eyes were intense and anxious.
“Of course I do. He’s wonderful.”
She bobbed her head, satisfied, and left the room.
The man came to work on the paneling in the east wing the day after Ducky disclosed M. Bernard’s history. She told me he was called Peg Leg Joe due, obviously, to the fact that he wore a wooden leg. He was a free black man who once was a sailor and who now traveled from plantation to plantation offering his services as a master carpenter.
I caught a glimpse or two of him as he came and went. He was an odd-looking fellow, extremely tall and thin, with hollow cheeks and one squinting eye. He added to his height by sporting a rusty black silk stovepipe hat along with his shabby workman’s clothing. There was something about the man that made me curious. He had a certain dignity and erectness in his bearing that invited attention.
After his arrival a new feeling sprang from the African servants. They seemed as stirred and shaken as if they were just now waking from a hundred-year sleep in an enchanted castle. Their movements quickened, and whispers and darting glances shot back and forth. An underlying excitement vibrated. No outsider but me would havenoticed. I noticed because I had no other occupation to distract me. Even Talitha, usually so calm, became absentminded and inattentive.
A few evenings after Peg Leg Joe came, I attempted, as usual, to chat with Talitha as she dressed me for dinner. At first she acted as if she didn’t hear me. When I persisted, she gave a sigh and said, “Please, Miss Sophia, you ain’t used to the way it be down here. Don’t try to be friends. I can’t be no friend to you. I’d pay the price if I tried. So please don’t talk to me that way no more.”
I felt as if I’d been slapped. Why should I not treat her normally? But if it would get her in trouble, I would stop trying.
When she fumbled in clasping my necklace, I asked hesitantly, “Will you at least tell me if something unusual is going on with the servants? Everyone’s acting so odd. Does it have something to do with Peg Leg Joe?”
She didn’t answer, and I gave her a feeble smile. “Never mind. I understand. Here, I’ll do that.” I took the necklace and tried to clasp it myself, but I could hardly make my fingers work, I was so busy blinking back tears. No wonder M. Bernard’s wives had been miserable, with my godfather gone all the time and no one willing to talk to them.
Talitha looked at me for a moment. Then she took back the necklace and fastened it firmly. “No, Miss, really, it ain’t nothing you’d be interested in. It’s only—there be a hallelujah meeting tonight. Peg Leg Joe, he a preacher, and everyone say he deliver a rip-roaring sermon. We excited about that. That’s all.”
“What’s a hallelujah meeting?”
She licked her lips. “One without white people. Where we can sing loud and worship as we see fit without bothering no one.”
I had thought they already sang loudly at the meeting I attended. “I hope you enjoy yourselves,” I said.
During supper I pondered the hallelujah meeting. It was not a coincidence that it was to be held when the master and Garvey were both gone. The head groom was not well liked among the servants. No,
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