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Authors: Mildred D. Taylor
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just looked at me, then she looked at the dresses. “Moe got somethin’ t’ do with all these here dresses on the bed?”
“Cassie’s trying to decide which one to wear tomorrow,” Mama said, turning to look again at the dresses herself.
“She oughta be in here packing,” asserted Big Ma, even though she knew perfectly well that my packing had been done for weeks now, since before I got sick. She came over to the bed and scrutinized the dresses, then picked up the red dress. “I like this one. Moe will too.”
I jumped up and slammed my hands to my hips in vexation. “Now, what I want to know is how come Moe’s name keep coming up about these dresses?”
Big Ma ignored me and thrust the dress toward me. “Try it on!” she ordered.
Mama laughed. “Go ahead. Let’s see which one shows you off best.”
Feeling a bit exasperated, I took off my blouse and skirt, then slipped on the dress. Mama got up and undid my braid, then combed it out and tied my hair with a ribbon. When she was finished, she and Big Ma stood back satisfied as I pranced around in front of the mirror admiring myself. I was pretty and I knew it. I didn’t think much about it, though. It was just one of those things I was, and I didn’t dwell on it, except for when I had on something especially nice and was wanting to look my best.
“Don’t wear out that mirror, now,” admonished Big Ma, knowing I was thinking I was looking pretty cute. “Here, try on the blue one here.”
I laughed and started to take off the dress. As I pulled it over my head there was a crisp knock on the door and LittleMan called: “’Ey, Cassie! Harris and Clarence and Willie, they’re here! You still going hunting with us?”
“Course I am!” I hollered through the material, and hurried to get out of the dress.
Big Ma slapped at my arm. “Girl, hang on there! You gonna tear this thing.” She helped me out of it, then cast Mama an accusing glance. “Y’all still gonna let her go?”
Mama smiled at Big Ma’s continued disapproval. “Mama, now, you know she’s gone plenty of times before.”
Big Ma sighed in disgust. “Y’all jus’ spoils this girl!” she declared once more. “Here, give me that dress, Cassie! Whiles you out prancin’ ’round them woods, s’pose I best run the iron over one of ’em for ya, you gon’ wear it in the mornin’. Which one you gonna wear?” She didn’t give me time to answer as she took up both dresses. “‘Spect I best go on and iron ’em both. Knowin’ you, you likely to change your mind come mornin’.”
“Thank you, Big Ma,” I said cheerfully, and gave her a quick hug.
“Humph!” she grumped and went on out.
I laughed and hurried into my blouse, then started to pull on my skirt. “You going hunting with the boys,” Mama said, “you best wear that old, faded flowered skirt. This one’s too nice.”
“What I need to be wearing is a pair of pants.”
“You know how I feel about that.”
“But, Mama, it just makes sense to wear pants!”
“That flowered skirt is washed and ironed and hanging up there in that closet somewhere. You best find it and put it on if you’re going. Hunting is one thing, but wearing pants at your age is another. You planning on arguing with me about it, I’ve got the time. Do you?”
“Suppose not,” I grumbled. “Wouldn’t do any good anyway.”
“I think you’re most likely right about that,” she said, heading for the door. “Be sure you hang up that other skirt before you go. You can take it to Jackson with you and wear it again before it’s washed.” She reached the door and looked back at me. “You look mighty pretty in both those dresses, sugar.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Mama.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling too. Then she left.
Little Man hollered for me again from the porch.
“All right, all right, I’m coming!” I shot back. I grabbed the flowered skirt from the closet and threw it on. Underneath it I pulled on a
“Cassie’s trying to decide which one to wear tomorrow,” Mama said, turning to look again at the dresses herself.
“She oughta be in here packing,” asserted Big Ma, even though she knew perfectly well that my packing had been done for weeks now, since before I got sick. She came over to the bed and scrutinized the dresses, then picked up the red dress. “I like this one. Moe will too.”
I jumped up and slammed my hands to my hips in vexation. “Now, what I want to know is how come Moe’s name keep coming up about these dresses?”
Big Ma ignored me and thrust the dress toward me. “Try it on!” she ordered.
Mama laughed. “Go ahead. Let’s see which one shows you off best.”
Feeling a bit exasperated, I took off my blouse and skirt, then slipped on the dress. Mama got up and undid my braid, then combed it out and tied my hair with a ribbon. When she was finished, she and Big Ma stood back satisfied as I pranced around in front of the mirror admiring myself. I was pretty and I knew it. I didn’t think much about it, though. It was just one of those things I was, and I didn’t dwell on it, except for when I had on something especially nice and was wanting to look my best.
“Don’t wear out that mirror, now,” admonished Big Ma, knowing I was thinking I was looking pretty cute. “Here, try on the blue one here.”
I laughed and started to take off the dress. As I pulled it over my head there was a crisp knock on the door and LittleMan called: “’Ey, Cassie! Harris and Clarence and Willie, they’re here! You still going hunting with us?”
“Course I am!” I hollered through the material, and hurried to get out of the dress.
Big Ma slapped at my arm. “Girl, hang on there! You gonna tear this thing.” She helped me out of it, then cast Mama an accusing glance. “Y’all still gonna let her go?”
Mama smiled at Big Ma’s continued disapproval. “Mama, now, you know she’s gone plenty of times before.”
Big Ma sighed in disgust. “Y’all jus’ spoils this girl!” she declared once more. “Here, give me that dress, Cassie! Whiles you out prancin’ ’round them woods, s’pose I best run the iron over one of ’em for ya, you gon’ wear it in the mornin’. Which one you gonna wear?” She didn’t give me time to answer as she took up both dresses. “‘Spect I best go on and iron ’em both. Knowin’ you, you likely to change your mind come mornin’.”
“Thank you, Big Ma,” I said cheerfully, and gave her a quick hug.
“Humph!” she grumped and went on out.
I laughed and hurried into my blouse, then started to pull on my skirt. “You going hunting with the boys,” Mama said, “you best wear that old, faded flowered skirt. This one’s too nice.”
“What I need to be wearing is a pair of pants.”
“You know how I feel about that.”
“But, Mama, it just makes sense to wear pants!”
“That flowered skirt is washed and ironed and hanging up there in that closet somewhere. You best find it and put it on if you’re going. Hunting is one thing, but wearing pants at your age is another. You planning on arguing with me about it, I’ve got the time. Do you?”
“Suppose not,” I grumbled. “Wouldn’t do any good anyway.”
“I think you’re most likely right about that,” she said, heading for the door. “Be sure you hang up that other skirt before you go. You can take it to Jackson with you and wear it again before it’s washed.” She reached the door and looked back at me. “You look mighty pretty in both those dresses, sugar.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Mama.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling too. Then she left.
Little Man hollered for me again from the porch.
“All right, all right, I’m coming!” I shot back. I grabbed the flowered skirt from the closet and threw it on. Underneath it I pulled on a
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