Wilson  stepped  to  the  window  to  observe  the
combatants;  he  could  not  work  while  their  chatter
continued.  Over  in  the  vacant  lots  was  Jasper,
young,  coal-black,  and  of  magnificent  build,  sitting
on  a  wheelbarrow  in  the  pelting  sun — at  work,  sup-
posably,  whereas  he  was  in  fact  only  preparing  for
it  by  taking  an  hour's  rest  before  beginning.  In
front  of  Wilson's  porch  stood  Roxy,  with  a  local
hand-made  baby-wagon,  in  which  sat  her  two
charges — one  at  each  end  and  facing  each  other.
From  Roxy's  manner  of  speech,  a  stranger  would
have  expected  her  to  be  black,  but  she  was  not.
Only  one-sixteenth  of  her  was  black,  and  that  six-
teenth did  not  show.  She  was  of  majestic  form  and
stature,  her  attitudes  were  imposing  and  statuesque,
and  her  gestures  and  movements  distinguished  by  a
noble  and  stately  grace.  Her  complexion  was  very
fair,  with  the  rosy  glow  of  vigorous  health  in  the
cheeks,  her  face  was  full  of  character  and  expres-
sion, her  eyes  were  brown  and  liquid,  and  she  had  a
heavy  suit  of  fine  soft  hair  which  was  also  brown,
but  the  fact  was  not  apparent  because  her  head  was
ii


MARK    TWAIN

bound  about  with  a  checkered  handkerchief  and  the
hair  was  concealed  under  it.  Her  face  was  shapely,
intelligent,  and  comely — even  beautiful.  She  had  an
easy,  independent  carriage — when  she  was  among
her  own  caste — and  a  high  and  "sassy"  way,  withal;
but  of  course  she  was  meek  and  humble  enough
where  white  people  were.
