The Red House with the Blue Shutters.
Captain Jones was a prompt and upright business-man, faithful to his
engagements, at any sacrifice.
He was pledged to remain in New York the shortest possible space of
time, he therefore had not, after attending to necessary business, even
an hour to devote to Daph and the little ones. It was a sad moment to
him, when he strained Charlie to his breast for the last time, and
kissed his “Water-lily,” as he loved to call Louise.
He had given Daph a letter to a sailor’s widow, with whom he thought
she would be able to secure a home, where she would escape the idle
and vicious poor who congregated in less respectable parts of the
city. After having made Daph count on her fingers, half a dozen times,
the number of streets she must cross before she came to “the small
red house, with blue shutters,” where she was to stop, he piloted
the little party into Broadway, and setting their faces in the right
direction, he bade them an affectionate farewell.
As he shook Daph’s black hand for the last time, she placed in his a
small parcel, clumsily tied up in brown paper, saying, “You puts that
in your pocket, Massa Cap’in, and when you gets to sea, you open it,
and you will understand what Daph means.”
Captain Jones did, almost unconsciously, as Daph suggested, as, with a
full heart, he turned away from the little ones who had become so dear
to him.
Once more, the only protector of her master’s children, Daph’s energy
seemed to return to her. She wound the shawl more closely about Louise,
drew Charlie to her honest bosom, looked after the various bundles, and
then set off at a regular marching pace.
The strange appearance of the little party, soon attracted the
attention of the knots of idle boys, who even then infested the more
populous parts of New York.
“Hallo, Darky! where’s your hand-organ? What’ll ye take for your
monkeys?” shouted one of these young rascals, as he eyed the children
in their odd-looking red flannel garments.
Louise clung closely to Daph, who strode steadily on, apparently
unconscious of the little troop gathering in her rear. By degrees the
young scamps drew nearer to her, and one of them, taking hold of the
skirt of her dress, cried out, “Come, fellows, form a line! Follow the
captain, and do as you see me do!”
A long string of boys arranged themselves behind Daph, each holding
on to the other’s tattered garments, and walking with mock solemnity,
while the foremost shouted in Daph’s ear the most provoking and
impudent things his imagination and rascality could suggest.
Daph maintained her apparent unconsciousness until she came in front of
a large door, with a deep recess, which opened directly on the street,
and but a step above the pavement.
With a sudden and unexpected jerk she freed herself from her tormentor,
then placing Charlie and Louise for a moment in the recess, she
charged upon her assailants. Right and left she dealt hearty slaps,
with her open hand, which sent the little crew howling away, their
cheeks smarting with pain and burning with rage. The whole thing was
the work of a moment. Daph took Charlie in her arms, clasped the
trembling hand of Louise, and resumed her steady walk as calmly as if
nothing had occurred.
There was much to attract the attention of the strangers in the new
scenes about them, but Daph kept her head straight forward, and devoted
all her attention to numbering the corners she passed, that she might
know when to begin to look out for the house so carefully described by
good Captain Jones.
Louise soon grew weary of keeping pace with Daph’s long strides,
and the faithful negro lifted the little girl in her arms, and went
patiently on with her double burden.
A weary, weary walk it seemed, even to the strong-limbed negro, before
they passed the last corner, according to her reckoning, and stood in
front of the very red house with blue shutters which she had been so
anxious to see. Much as she had longed to reach it, its appearance did
not fill Daph’s heart with joy. A sort of dread of the new people whom
she was to meet stole over her, but she resolved to put a bold face on
the matter, and in this mood she gave a heavy knock at the blue door.
Her imperative summons was promptly answered.
The door was opened by a little girl, of about ten years of age, who
was covered, from her slender neck to her bare feet, with a long
checked pinafore, above which appeared a closely-cropped, brown head,
and a small, demure-looking face. The child stood perfectly still,
gazing in quiet wonder at the strangers, and waiting to hear their
business.
Daph had to set the children down on the steps, and fumble in her
bosom for the captain’s precious note. She drew it at last from its
hiding-place, and handed it triumphantly to the young porteress,
saying, “Dis is what’ll tell you who we are, and what we wants.” The
little girl looked at the note with a puzzled expression, and then
calmly walked away, down the narrow hall, without saying a word. Daph
sat down on the door-step, and took the children on her lap, with a
kind of faith that all would go well, which made her feel quite easy.
She was making the children laugh at a playful pig, that was running up
and down the street, when angry tones from within met her ear, and she
caught the following words:
“Take a negro for a lodger! I shall do no such thing! Who does Captain
Jones think I am!”
“Mother,” said a calm young voice, “you know we shall be behind with
the rent, and then, the children are white; one of them is the whitest
child I ever saw.”
“The rent, yes, that is a bad business. Well, I suppose I must come to
it! What one does have to put up with in this world! Show the woman in!”
Daph, who had heard the whole conversation quite plainly, rose at the
last words, and was ready to accept the invitation to walk into the
back room, which she immediately received.
Daph made a polite courtesy to the sour-looking little woman, who
seemed hardly strong enough to have spoken in the loud, harsh tones
which had just been heard.
“So Captain Jones sent you here!” said the woman, somewhat tartly, as
she eyed the odd-looking party.
Daph had taken off the shawl from Louise, and set Charlie on his feet,
that the children might appear to the best advantage; she stood proudly
between them, as she said, “I wants to hire a room for my missus’s
children. We’s been ’bliged to come north this summer, and will have to
look out a bit for ourselves, as massa could n’t come wid us.”
“Daphne,” said the woman, sweetening a little, “Captain Jones says
that is your name, and that you are an honest industrious woman? Do you
think you will be able to pay the rent, regularly?”
“I has a right to my name,” said Daph, straightening up her stout
figure. “Missus had it gib to me, like any white folks, when she had me
baptised. I isn’t particler about having all of it, so most folks calls
me Daph. Is I honest? Look me in de eye, and answer dat yeself. Is I
industrious? Look at dat arm, and dese ere fingers; do dey look like if
I was lazy?”
The clear eye, muscular arm, and hard work-worn hand were indeed the
best assurances the doubtful questioner could have received.
“As to de rent,” added Daph, “my missus’ children isn’t widout money.”
As she spoke, she gave her pocket a hearty shake, which produced a
significant chinking, that seemed quite satisfactory.
“You are a queer one!” said the woman, “but you may as well look at the
room. It’s right there in front; you passed it as you came in.”
Daph stepped to the door of the front room, pushed it open, and looked
around her, with her head thrown a little on one side, as if that
position were favorable to forming a correct judgment as to its merits.
“Well, it do be radder small,” she said, after a few moment’s
dignified consideration, “but den it be proper clean, and two winder
to de street, for de childen. Haven’t ye got anything to put in it; no
chair, nor table, nor such like?”
“You will have to furnish for yourself,” said the woman, “but you shall
have the room on reasonable terms.”
The bargain was soon made, but whether on reasonable terms or not, Daph
had but little idea, though she prudently concealed her ignorance.
Once in her own domain, Daph sat down on the floor, and giving each of
the children a huge sea-biscuit, she took them in her arms, and began
to wave to and fro, singing one of the wild negro melodies, which
spring up wherever the African race take root.
The weary children were soon in a sound sleep, and then Daph laid them
carefully down on the clean floor, covered them with the shawls she
had found so useful, and then sat stock-still beside them, for a few
moments, lost in deep thought. After a while, she took from her pocket
the purse the captain had given her, and her own store of small change,
wrapped in its bit of rag. The latter she laid aside, saying, “That
mus do for eat. Dat Daph’s own. Now dis, Daph jus borry from de cap’in.
Massa’s children don’t have to come to livin on other people when
Daph’s on her feet. Cap’in Jones got he money’s worth in that beauty
gold chain I puts in his hand, and he not know it.”
Here Daph gave a real negro chuckle, at the thought of the artifice,
which had made her feel at liberty to use the money so kindly given
her, without accepting charity, from which she revolted, as well for
herself as for her master’s children.
“Now Daph must be gittin dis place in order quick, or de childen will
be wakin up,” said Daph, as she rose hastily with the air of one
prepared for action. She carefully closed the shutters, locked the door
behind her, and putting the key in her pocket, set off to make her
purchases.