"I want to tell you something, Mammy. This is not the time to talk
about such things, nor to wail and lament about our lot. I have just
been down helping some of those women with their children. They are
almost heart-broken, and I did what I could to cheer them up. I have
made up my mind that no matter how badly I feel, no one is to know
anything about it. I am going to forget my own troubles in helping
others. And, Mammy, I want you to do the same. If you talk to others
as you have been talking to me, it will make them more depressed than
ever. They need smiles, words of cheer, and a helping hand. And you
can do that, remember. Never mind about me, or admiring young men.
There are more serious things to think about just now."

"Land sakes, chile!" the colored woman exclaimed, holding up both
hands. "I nebber heard yo' talk dat way befo'. But I guess yo're
right, an' I'se ready to do what I kin. But here comes de Cun'l! An',
oh, Missie Jean, de Major's wif him! Dere won't be 'nuf waffles to go
'round, an' de fire's 'most out. What in de world is I to do?"

"Never mind, Mammy," the girl comforted, "they have hardly time to
think about eating. Just give them what you have."

"But dese waffles are col', chile, an' I know how fond men are of
eatin'. Nuffin' kin make dem fergit dere stummicks."

Smiling at the colored woman's worries, Jean at once set to work to
renew the fire. There were a few hot coals, so by the time the men
arrived, she had the fire burning brightly, and Mammy was preparing to
cook an extra supply of waffles.