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"What in the world were you doing? We have not yet sunk so low that you are forced to work outside in the hot sun like a field hand. What will people think of us? Do you want your skin to turn brown and your hands to get all blistered like a slave's?"

"I'm bored, Mother. There's nothing else to do and I thought I should learn how to put food on our table in case Lizzie decides to leave, too."

"There has never been a Weatherly who had to work like a Negro, and so help me God, there never will be."

But that's just it, Jo wanted to say. God isn't helping us.

"Did you know that Otis is Lizzie's husband?" Jo asked. Mother looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "And Roselle is Lizzie's daughter. They have two other children, too."

"What in the world is wrong with you? As if it isn't bad enough that you're working with slaves, now you've decided to converse with them, too? Really, Josephine!"

"They aren't our slaves anymore. They're people. We shouldn't treat them like slaves."

"I believe the hot sun has addled your brain. Go splash some cold water on your face and tidy your hair." Mother turned and strode away. Jo followed her down the hall and into the foyer.

"But we have to change the way we do things, Mother. Nothing is the same as it used to be."

"Well, so help me God, I'm going to change everything back."
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