The Arrival

"Oh, mother, get up quick--the stage has driven up at the gate, and I
reckon pa has come," said Anna, bursting into the room where her
mother, who was suffering from a headache, was still in bed.

Raising herself upon her elbow, and pushing aside the rich, heavy
curtains, Mrs. Livingstone looked out upon the mud-bespattered
vehicle, from which a leg, encased in a black and white stocking, was
just making its egress. "Oh, heavens!" said she, burying her face
again in the downy pillows. Woman's curiosity, however, soon
prevailed over all other feelings, and again looking out she obtained
a full view of her mother-in-law, who, having emerged from the coach,
was picking out her boxes, trunks, and so forth. When they were all
found, Mr. Livingstone ordered two negroes to carry them to the side
piazza, where they were soon mounted by three or four little darkies,
Thomas Jefferson among the rest.

"John, _John_" said Mrs. Nichols, "them niggers won't scent my
things, will they?"

"Don't talk, granny," whispered 'Lena, painfully conscious of the
curious eyes fixed upon them by the bevy of blacks, who had come out
to greet their master, and who with sidelong glances at each other,
were inspecting the new comers.

"Don't talk! why not?" said Mrs. Nichols, rather sharply. "This is a
free country I suppose." Then bethinking herself, she added quickly,
"Oh, I forgot, 'taint free _here_!"

After examining the satchel and finding that the night gown sleeve
was safe, Mrs. Nichols took up her line of march for the house,
herself carrying her umbrella and band-box, which she would not
intrust to the care of the negroes, "as like enough they'd break the
umberell, or squash her caps."