XVIII.
March 10th.
… YZORE and her little ones are all in Manm-Robert's shop;—
she is recounting her troubles,—fresh troubles: forty-seven
francs' worth of work delivered on time, and no money
received. … So much I hear as I enter the little boutique
myself, to buy a package of "bouts."
—"Assise!" says Manm-Robert, handing me her own hair;—she is
always pleased to see me, pleased to chat lith me about creole
folk-lore. Then observing, a smile exchanged between myself and
Mimi, she tells the children to bid me good-day:—"Alle di bonjou'
Missié-a!"
One after another, each holds up a velvety cheek to kiss. And
Mimi, who has been asking her mother the same question over and
over again for at least five minutes without being able to obtain
an answer, ventures to demand of me on the strength of this
introduction:—
—"Missié, oti masque-à?"
—"Y ben fou, pouloss!" the mother cries out;—"Why, the child
must be going out of her senses! … Mimi pa 'mbêté moune
conm ça!—pa ni piess masque: c'est la-vérette qui ni." (Don't
annoy people like that!—there are no maskers now; there is
nothing but the verette!)
[You are not annoying me at all, little Mimi; but I would not
like to answer your question truthfully. I know where the maskers
are,—most of them, child; and I do not think it would be well for
you to know. They wear no masks now; but if you were to see them
for even one moment, by some extraordinary accident, pretty Mimi,
I think you would feel more frightened than you ever felt before.] …
—"Toutt lanuite y k'anni rêvé masque-à," continues Yzore. …
I am curious to know what Mimi's dreams are like;—wonder if I
can coax her to tell me. …
