Every year her melancholy increased, her means diminished. At last no one seemed to notice her, save a kind-hearted African, who often called to inquire after her health and to see if she needed any fuel, he having the responsibility of furnishing that article, and she in return mend-ing or making garments.
"How much you earn dis week, Mag?" asked he one Saturday evening.
"Little enough, Jim. Two or three days with-out any dinner. I washed for the Reeds, and did a small job for Mrs. Bellmont; that's all. I shall starve soon, unless I can get more to do. Folks seem as afraid to come here as if they expected to get some awful disease. I don't believe there is a person in the world but would be glad to have me dead and out of the way."
"No, no, Mag! don't talk so. You shan't starve so long as I have barrels to hoop. Peter Greene boards me cheap. I'll help you, if nobody else will."
A tear stood in Mag's faded eye. "I'm glad," she said, with a softer tone than before, "if there is ONE who isn't glad to see me suffer. I b'lieve all Singleton wants to see me punished, and feel as if they could tell when I've been punished long enough. It's a long day ahead they'll set it, I reckon."
After the usual supply of fuel was prepared, Jim returned home. Full of pity for Mag, he set about devising measures for her relief. "By golly!" said he to himself one day--for he had become so absorbed in Mag's interest that he had fallen into a habit of musing aloud--"By golly!
I wish she'd MARRY me."
"Who?" shouted Pete Greene, suddenly start-ing from an unobserved corner of the rude shop.
"Where you come from, you sly nigger!" ex-claimed Jim.
"Come, tell me, who is't?" said Pete; "Mag Smith, you want to marry?"
"Git out, Pete! and when you come in dis shop again, let a nigger know it. Don't steal in like a thief."
Pity and love know little severance. One attends the other. Jim acknowledged the pres-ence of the former, and his efforts in Mag's behalf told also of a finer principle.
This sudden expedient which he had uninten-tionally disclosed, roused his thinking and invent-ive powers to study upon the best method of introducing the subject to Mag.
He belted his barrels, with many a scheme re-volving in his mind, none of which quite satisfied him, or seemed, on the whole, expedient. He thought of the pleasing contrast between her fair face and his own dark skin; the smooth, straight hair, which he had once, in expression of pity, kindly stroked on her now wrinkled but once fair brow. There was a tempest gathering in his heart, and at last, to ease his pent-up passion, he exclaimed aloud, "By golly!" Recollecting his former exposure, he glanced around to see if Pete was in hearing again. Satisfied on this point, he continued: "She'd be as much of a prize to me as she'd fall short of coming up to the mark with white folks. I don't care for past things. I've done things 'fore now I's 'shamed of. She's good enough for me, any how."
One more glance about the premises to be sure Pete was away.
The next Saturday night brought Jim to the hovel again. The cold was fast coming to tarry its apportioned time. Mag was nearly despairing of meeting its rigor.
"How's the wood, Mag?" asked Jim.
"All gone; and no more to cut, any how," was the reply.
"Too bad!" Jim said. His truthful reply would have been, I'm glad.
"Anything to eat in the house?" continued he.
"No," replied Mag.
"Too bad!" again, orally, with the same INWARD gratulation as before.
"Well, Mag," said Jim, after a short pause, "you's down low enough. I don't see but I've got to take care of ye. 'Sposin' we marry!"
Mag raised her eyes, full of amazement, and uttered a sonorous "What?"
Jim felt abashed for a moment. He knew well what were her objections.
"You's had trial of white folks any how. They run off and left ye, and now none of 'em come near ye to see if you's dead or alive. I's black outside, I know, but I's got a white heart inside.
Which you rather have, a black heart in a white skin, or a white heart in a black one?"
"Oh, dear!" sighed Mag; "Nobody on earth cares for ME--"
"I do," interrupted Jim.
"I can do but two things," said she, "beg my living, or get it from you."
"Take me, Mag. I can give you a better home than this, and not let you suffer so."
He prevailed; they married. You can philos-ophize, gentle reader, upon the impropriety of such unions, and preach dozens of sermons on the evils of amalgamation. Want is a more power-ful philosopher and preacher. Poor Mag. She has sundered another bond which held her to her fellows. She has descended another step down the ladder of infamy.
