“Mammy, look at Tishy Peafowl in Mary Van’s yard.” Willis pointed across the street to a peacock in full expression of his feathered pride.

Phyllis went to the window and exclaimed, “You sho’ly ain’ callin’ Majer Peafowl, dat ugly ole Tishy?”

“You said Tishy was fine and pretty,” reminded Mary Van.

“She wus, tell Mist’r Mount’in Fowel tu’n out ter be nobody but er ole low down buzzard. I tell yer dat gal act so scand’lous dat all her purty feath’rs start ter drappin’ out, ’caze she act so ugly on de inside, dey wusn’t nuthin’ ter hole de purty on de outside.”

“Did all her pretty feathers drop out sho’ nuf?” asked the little girl, much concerned.

“Dey ain’ all drap out yit, ’caze she ain’ loss all her inside purty yit.”

“What’s Major Peafowel doing?”

“He jes’ stan’in’ up dar watchin’ dat fier on Tinker, an’ wushin’ hit ’ud bu’n up Lilly Dove’s house.”

Immediately the children became interested in watching the forest fire which enveloped a part of Tinker Knob.

“Did Lilly’s house burn down?” asked Mary Van with feeling.

“Bu’n up er holy Ghos’ bird’s house?” exclaimed Phyllis. “Why, gal, dat’s de bird de Holy Ghos’ sen’s, an’ exsen’s ’pon, whinsomev’r hit come down ’pon de earf! Jes’ like Jay burds is Satan’s burds,—fokes says dey goes ter de Bad Place ev’y Friday night, an’ I ’speck dey sees er heap er fokes useter live heah too.”

“Mammy, I’m skeered God don’t know the mountain’s on fire,” said Willis anxiously.

“Go off, boy, de Lawd ain’ needin’ you ter hope him ’ten’ ter His biznes’—now ef dat wus er Jay burd, hit wud er bin burnt clean up, but bein’s hit’s er Holy Ghos’ dove, dat hope ole man Noah ter lan’ de Ark, de Lawd ain’ gwine let her swing er feath’r. Dis hyah ain’ de fus’ time Lilly Dove put her trus’ in de Lawd. Dat hit ’tain’t,” as she took from the floor the book of Robin Redbreast, “an’ dis hyah Cock Robin,” placing her finger on the picture, “is de ve’y man dat start all de fracus.”“Didn’t Robin like Lilly Dove?” Willis left the window to look at the book.

“Him an’ Ginny Wren near ’bout foolish ’bout Lilly Dove—dat’s howcum Tishy Peafowel ter tu’n ’ginst Lilly like she done.”

Mary Van went over to Willis, and together they spread the book upon the floor where the gay-colored pictures of the birds accentuated the feathered characters of Phyllis’s mind.

“Tishy Peafowel nev’r wud er got so mean, ef An’ Polly Parrit had er mine her own biznes’,—’stid er dat, An’ Polly ax Cock Robin whut ail Tishy feath’rs. Robin tell her Tishy ain’ got no sense, dat ef she had much sense es Lilly Dove got, she nuv’r wud er bin in de fix she in now.—Whoopee! dat start de fracus.

“An’ Polly start right fum dar an’ spen’ de day wid ev’rybody in de woods—she mixin’ de ’pinions fokes got er Tishy an’ Lilly. Atter she git bustin’ full er news, hyah she come ter spen’ de day wid Tishy. Whin ole Lady Peafowel see An’ Polly take off her bonnet ter spen’ de day, she run an’ git out de bes’ china, an’ she tell de cook ter have fried chick’n fur din’r ’caze she know An’ Polly gwine tell all erbout whut dey eats ter de nex’ place she go.”

She paused to lift a table near the window, when Willis called from the floor:

“Mammy, don’t let Aunt Polly have fried chicken for dinner.”

“You sho’ly done los’ yo’ senses, boy. Ole lady Peafowel jes’ es skeered er An’ Polly es yo’ ma is er Miss Tilly Totenews.—’Cose she gwine have fried chick’n an’ mo’ b’sides,—an’ she doan let none de chillun do no talkin’ whar An’ Polly’s at neeth’r,” she giggled.

The children needed no further description of Aunt Polly, for they knew a visit from Miss Tilly meant their banishment, as well as the strictest injunction to yea, yea, nay, nay, whenever they chanced to meet her.

“Yas, suh,” she unfolded her quilt pieces and prepared to assort them on the table, “An’ Polly talk er nuf wurds ter Tishy dat day ter set her plum on fier wid madnes’. Yer see mos’ all Tishy’s purty feath’rs wus out, an’ dem whut’s lef wus right loose an’ straggly, an’ dat make Tishy wusser. Yer see trubble done make Tishy so sour an’ mean dat she hate ev’rybody dat’s purty’r’n her—an’ she hate Lilly wusser en all uv ’em, ’caze Lilly wus so kine, an’ treat fokes so sweet, dat ev’rybody jes’ nachelly love Lilly.

“Long ’bout dis time, de church fixin’ ter have er sociable. Dey gwine have speakin’ pieces, an’ singin’ jes’ like fokes has. John Mockin’bird, he de haid man. ’Cose John wus lovin’ Lilly, an’ ’cose he want Lilly ter sing er chune er do sump’in, but Lilly say she bleege ter him fur axin’ her, but de Lawd nuv’r make her ter sing like Laura Nightingale, an’ ’tain’ no use er her tryin’ ter do hit. I tell yer Lilly had er heap er sense—an’ er heap er beaux, too; dar wus John Mockin’bird, an’ Tom Jay Bird, an’ Bob White, an’ mo’ b’sides. But she ain’ keer nuthin’ fur none uv ’em ’cep’in’ John.”

“Mammy, did Lilly Dove know Tom Jay Bird went to the Bad Place every Friday night?” Willis went over and stood by the table.“Cose she heah tell erbout hit, ’caze An’ Polly Parrit done spen’ de day wid her on de subjec’, but Lilly, she sot right still tell An’ Polly git th’u busin’ him, an’ callin’ him low down gambl’r—den Lilly she up an’ ax, ‘An’ Polly does you recoleck whin you wus shet up in dat cage up at Mist’r Man’s house?’ An’ Polly say she nuv’r is ter fergit hit. Lilly say, ‘Does yer ’memb’r whin Tom Jay ust’r fotch yer all dem fat wurms?’ An’ Polly say she know Tom’s er good feller, but she jes’ tellin’ whut fokes sez.

“Yas, suh, Tom wus er good feller, but we got ter git back ter de sociable, er dem fokes git ti’ed er waitin’.”

Willis’s foot accidentally upset the quilt basket. “Take yer foot out’n Mammy’s bask’t, an’ g’long back an’ look at de pictur’s wid Ma’y Van.”“No, I won’t—I’m tired sitting down on the floor.”

“Dat’s jes’ de way Tishy Peafowel talk whin her ma beg her ter stay at home wid dem loose straggly feath’rs er he’rn, but Tishy say, ‘No, I won’t,’ jes’ like you talks ter me sometimes. Jes’ den one her purty feath’rs drap out.”

“Well, Mammy, I do want to stand up,” he added apologetically, “and we’ve looked at all the pictures in that book.”

She found another book of birds which she opened on the table.

“Hyah, stan’ up an’ look at dese,—dar’s Tishy de ve’y fus’ one.”

Mary Van was soon beside him:

“Ain’t Tishy pretty, Mammy Phyllis?” she said.

“She sho’ wus sumthin’ ter look at ’fo’ Big Eye Buzzard come erlong. An’ Tishy wus er good gal, too, but she nuv’r had nuf ’ligion ter stan’ trubble.”

“Did her mama let her go down town?”

“Tishy done got so mean, her ma can’ do nuthin’ wid her. She tell her ma she gwine ter see how John Mockin’bird gittin’ ’long wid de sociable.” She added with a confidential air: “Tishy want ter act in de sociable, an’ she wanter give John er chanct ter ax her.

“Oh, I tell yer John have er heap er trubble wid de diffunt kine er fokes ov’r dat sociable. Dar wus de Sparrer fambly dat yer can’ keep out no way yer fixes hit, dey’ll eb’n git ter parties whar nobody don’t want ’em an’ den act like dey wus de bigges’ fokes ax’d.”

“How, Mammy?” Mary Van thought of her own birthday party where she had excluded Jim Weed.

“Oh, dey does like Miss Bizzy Sparrer done Lilly Dove whin she give er party one time. Miss Bizzy meet Lilly in de poplar tree an’ say:

“‘I heah yer ’bout ter give er party, Miss Lilly, an’ I jes’ wanter ax yer ef we got enything yer kin use?’

“Lilly, she thank her an’ tu’n de subjec’, but Bizzy she git back on ter hit ergin an’ say:

“‘Ain’t dey sumpin’ I kin do? Lemme hope yer.’

“Lilly say she doan need nobody ter do nuthin’, but she kin come ter de party ef she’s er mine ter.

“An’ Bizzy come, too, an’ whut’s mo’, her bruth’r hafter come ter bring her, an’ whut’s mo’en dat, her sist’r can’t stay at home by herse’f. Yas, Lawd, an’ ’fo’ enybody know how dey got dar, de place wus right full er Sparrers.”

“Mammy, did John ask Tishy to act in the sociable?” began Willis.

“I’m gwine tell yer now ’bout whin she start ter see John, she come up wid An’ Polly. She ax An’ Polly ef she know wharbouts John is. An’ Polly say, John gone clean ov’r ter de Peaks er Otter ter git some flow’rs fer Lilly ter w’ar ter de sociable.

“Tishy say, ‘Yas, I speck Lilly Dove gwine be tryin’ ter do all de singin’ an’ de speakin’, too.’

“An’ Polly say, ‘’Cose John gwine sing wid her ter keep fokes fum laffin’.’ Tishy git so mad ’caze she can’t see John dat she flounce herse’f roun’ right in An’ Polly’s face an’ strut herse’f home,—an’ her purty feath’rs drap out all ’long de road. Dat night at de sociable, Lilly, she come wid John, an’ I tell yer, man, she look purty, too, wid dem gran’ flow’rs John fotch her. John he so proud he mos’ bustin’. He take an’ strut all roun’ wid Lilly hangin’ on his arm, an’ all de fokes talkin’ ’bout how fine dey looks. Bimeby, hyah come Tishy wid Jack Sparrer an—”

“Wasn’t Jack Sparrow too little for Tishy Peafowel?” appealed Mary Van.

“’Cose he wus, but yer see Tishy done loss her chusin’, an’ she got ter take whut she kin git.—Jack Sparrer doan wanter go wid her neeth’r, but yer see Tishy wus so fus’ class dat Jack ax her, so he kin mix wid de hifalutin’ fokes. Dem sparrers er sight, I tell yer,” she mused.“Go on, Mammy,” Willis shook the book.

“Well, whin Lilly see Tishy look so pitiful long side er Jack Sparrer, she go right straight an’ walk ’long side er her, ’caze ev’ybody laffin’ at Tishy.

“Lilly ain’ talk ter Tishy long, ’fo’ she fine out Tishy want ter sing er chune. Lilly she go an’ tell John:

“‘Yer mus’ ax Tishy ter sing.’

“John say, ‘I’m too bizzy ter fool wid Tishy.’

“Lilly coo sof’ an’ ax’, ‘Please, John.’

“John say, ‘All right.’

“Oh, I tell yer, John sing ev’rybody’s chune wid ’em. He so happy he can’ keep his mouf shet. Jes’ den he ’nounce dat Miss Tishy Peafowel gwine sing. Ev’rybody feel like shettin’ der eyes whin dat straggly fe’th’r Tishy walk up ter de pianny. She ’nounce, she do:

“‘I ain’ sot er chune sense I got well, but ef youall’s bleege ter hyah me, I’ll do m’ bes’.’

“Mussy gracious! de fokes hatt’r hole on ter der ye’rs,—”

“Why, Mammy?”

At that moment, the peafowl in Mary Van’s yard uttered a piercing screech.

“Dat’s de rees’n,” she answered. “Peafowel’s bin singin’ jes’ dat erway sense den. Whoopee, whin Tishy see fokes stoppin’ up der ye’rs, she fling herse’f ’roun’ an’ grab John Mockin’bird by de arm an’ walk clean out’n de meetin’ house.”

“Was her feath’rs dropping out, too?” reminded Mary Van.

“Dat dey wus, she scatter ’em ev’ywhar she go. Whin she git John out in de dark, she flounce ’roun’ an’ say: ‘You ain’ sich er big sumbody, John Mockin’bird! Lilly Dove say she jes’ ’spise you an’ yo’ ugly ole flow’rs—dat she wush ter de Lawd she had er nice gent’mun like Mist’r Jack Sparrer ter car’y her home ternight. She say she jes’ plum sick er you.’ John look at Tishy, tryin’ ter make out whut she say, den he sorter puff out his chist an’ strut back in de meetin’.”

“Didn’t he know Tishy was mean an bad?” asked Willis.

“How he gwine know, son? Tishy wus mouty fus’ class ’fo’ Big Eye come eroun’. Howsomev’r, whin him an’ Tishy go back in de meetin’ house, Tishy had done los’ ev’y one er her purty feath’rs, an’ she wusn’t nuthin’ but er ugly ole brown Peahen!—an’ she bin ugly ev’r sense, ’caze she ain’ nuv’r got nuf purty on de inside, ter make no mo’ purty on de outside ergin.”

“Did Jack Sparrow take Lilly Dove home?” asked Mary Van.

“Yas, mam, ’caze John ax him ter, an’ John ax Lilly ter give him dem flow’rs, too. Lilly dunno whut ter make whin she see John take an’ th’ow ’em out’n de wind’r—she mos’ die!”

“Did she cry, Mammy?” Mary Van asked sympathetically.

“She nuv’r cry den, but she sho’ bus’ her eyes op’n whin she git home by herse’f. Po’ Lilly, she stay er prayin’ an’ er cryin’ all night long.” Phyllis’s voice trembled in sympathy, and unconsciously the little girl and boy found themselves on either side of her, so close as to prevent the progress of quilt making. She laid the unfinished square on the table, and placed an arm about each.

“Yas, chillun, Lilly fix her eyes on de Lawd. Dat’s de diffunce b’twixt her an’ Tishy—yer see, trubble make some fokes purtier on de inside ’n ev’r. Lilly dunno whut ail John, but she do know dat she holdin’ on ter de Lawd.”

“Tell God about Lilly quick, Mammy.” Willis fidgeted.

“Ain’ I done tole yer de Lawd doan need fokes ter hope Him?”

“But we don’t want Lilly to cry any more,” urged Mary Van.

“She washin’ her eyes in cole water now, ’caze An’ Polly knockin’ at de do’. An’ Polly see de cur’us doin’s at de sociable las’ night, an’ she can’ wait ter eat her brekfus’ ’fo’ she go up ter Lilly’s house. Whin An’ Polly see po’ Lilly’s sweet lit’le face all swool up, de Lawd tu’n her h’art ter goodnes’ an’ she kiss Lilly an’ say, ‘I wants yer ter go out ter de Water Falls, an’ hope er po’ lit’le bird Doct’r Peck’rwood say some bad boy hit wid er rock.’

“Lilly she tie her bonnet on, an’ fly out ter de Falls ’fo’ yer knows hit. Den An’ Polly she come on ter Tishy Peafowels an’ ax Tishy, ‘Whut in de name er de Lawd ail Lilly Dove an’ John Mockin’bird?’

“Tish thow her head back an’ laf one dese mean sorter lafs an’ say: ‘I done hit, I wus jes’ ti’ed uv ev’ybody runnin’ atter dat mealy mouf Lilly Dove, an’ I jes’ ’termine ter part her an’ John—’caze John orter be my beau, ennyhow.’

“An’ Polly mos’ fall out’n de tree whin Tishy say dat. Yas, suh, she jes’ fly up ter John’s quick es she kin. John, he walkin’ up an’ down wid his han’s und’r his coat tails, mumblin’ an’ grumblin’ ter hisse’f, an’ hit wus right smart time ’fo’ he see An’ Polly settin’ dar.

“An’ Polly, she say: ‘John Mockin’bird, Tishy Peafowel done tole me dat low down sto’y she tole you ’ginst Lilly Dove.’

“John, he look at An’ Polly like he can’t make out whut she say.

“An’ Polly say, ‘Hit’s de trufe,—Tishy make up ev’r wurd she tell you, an’ po’ lit’le Lilly bin cryin’ her eyes out all night.’

“John bus’ out moanin’, ‘Whut mus’ I do?’

“She tell ’im: ‘Lilly out at de Water Falls now.’

“But John he feerd ter go whar Lilly at. So An’ Polly, she fly wid him tell dey sights de Falls, den she lef’ ’im. John, he fly er lit’le, an’ hop er lit’le tell he git clost nuf ter see Lilly wrop’n up de po’ lit’le bird’s leg, an’ cooin’ so sof’ ter hit—den John, he fly on de tree, an’ cry out er chune ter Lilly dat mos’ broke her h’art,—he sing:

“‘I ain’ good nuf fur Lilly Dove,
But she de onlies’ one I love.’

“Lilly she stoop low ov’r de lit’le bird so John can’t see whar she cryin’ at. An’ John he fly down an’ tell her he gwine jump in de Falls ef she ’fuse ter keep comp’ny wid him—but Lawd, whin he git clost ernuf ter see dem tears er Lilly’s, he th’ows his arms ’roun’ her an’—but you all chillun ain’ got no biznes’ knowin’ no mo’ en dat.”

“Please, Mammy, tell us if John jumped in the falls,” sympathetically begged Willis, eager to lose none of the details.Phyllis chuckled, “No, my Lawd, dey got marr’ed instid, an’ went ter housekeepin’ in dat tall pine stump ov’r yond’r on Tinker Knob.”