8
THE STUDENTS JOURNAL.
STUDY WINDOW.
"JINNIE."
Jinnie was our girl. I say was for, alas! human patience is so frail, we could not keep her long. And perhaps I should not say she was our girl, for she was hardly invested with the rights and authority which usually accompany that title. She was hired to be an extra pair of hands and feet for my mother.
"Jinnie," she said, was her name.
"Jinnie what?"
"Why, Jinnie."
We soon gave up the attempt to put her in our catalogue of hired girls, as child, colored, aged, so and so; surname, -; given name, -. "Jinnie" she remained.
Jinnie came to us one morning with a note from a friend of ours who was very active in charitable work. The good woman had found Jinnie-so the note read,-the only one of a large family of children who had no work to do. The family was very poor; but the mother. a good, industrious woman, had succeeded in finding places for all of her children, except this one. She was anxious that her girls should learn to work in order that they might always have a sure means of support. Our friend, knowing my mother was interested in charitable work, sent Jinnie to us to be trained in household ways.
The child's appearance was by no means prepossessing. She was small; her skin was dark, her eyes large and black—the most omniscient eyes I ever saw. You could never escape them; even if you stood directly behind her you felt that she knew your every movement, and that the slightest turn of her head would bring you within her all-embracing gaze. And we could never make her talk. If told to do anything, she would drawl out, "Ya'asum;" and any attempt, on our part, at conversation was defeated by that oracular "Ya'asum."
"The most monosyllabic creature I ever knew!" My mother said in great vexation.
"Evidently she isn't used to being well treated," I said, "After she has been here a few days and sees that we feel kindly toward her, she will be more manageable."
We began at once on friendly campaign.
We were careful always to speak to the child in the gentlest tones of voice we
could command. We talked and laughed about things she could understand; we told funny stories, and looked at her and smiled. But she responded to it all only with her big wondering gaze. Once I succeeded in calling forth a faint smile, and I felt exultant; but it was immediately followed by such an expression of apprehension that my joy turned to pity. I despaired of ever reaching her heart.
After our utter failure to establish conversational freedom between her and ourselves, we hit upon another means of gaining her friendship. When she went home at night, we would give her something—cake, picture-cards, and various nicknacks, that we thought would please her childish fancy. She always said she wanted them, and I believe she did; but she always received them with a perfectly impassive countenance. In one of my rummaging excursions, I found an ugly old brass ring that had once been given me as a booby prize; I thought at once she would like that, remembering well how any thing in the shape of a ring pleased me when I was a child. I came into the kitchen one night, just as she was going and holding up the ring asked.
"Would you like to have this?"
"Ya-a-sum," And the eyes looked at me in intense earnestness.
"Well, here it is," I said, putting it into her hand.
She closed her fingers over it, and stood quite still, waiting to be dismissed.
"Put it on your finger," I said, "and see how it looks."
She put it on her first finger—the ring was big enough for two—she turned it around with the thumb and finger of her other hand; the corners of her mouth twitched, she almost smiled.
"You'll have to tie a ribbon to it and fasten it around your wrist,the way we fix babies' rings," I said,meaning to encourage her to speak.
But the opportunity was lost. Looking at me with her old owl-like expression she merely said "Ya'asum;" and I let her go.
By this time I had come to the conclusion that the child's behavior was not due to ill treatment; and that I had better spend my time in teaching her how to work, than in wasting it in trying to make her a conversational creature. Consequently, I took