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Look hyeh, stranger, whut you reckon the Lawd kep' a-writin' thar on the groun' that day when them fellers was a-pesterin' him 'bout that pore woman? Don't you jes know he was a writin' 'bout sech as HIM an' Rosie? I tell ye, brother, he writ thar jes what I'm al'ays a-sayin'. Hit hain't the woman's fault.
But Jake kep' a-pesterin' me to go in with him an' do some cattle runnin' on the quiet. There was money in it pretty good money an' yore maw was sick an' needed to go to Denver. Jake, he advanced the money, an' o' course I had to work in with him to pay it back. I was sorta driven to it, looks like." He stopped to mop a perspiring face with a bandanna. Tolliver was not enjoying himself.
"When he's a no-'count varmint," said the woman, "without any especial warmth, a-traipsin' along of scalawags and moonshiners and a-layin' on his back pizen 'ith co'n whiskey, and a-pesterin' folks with a pack o' hungry, triflin' houn's to feed!"
W'y Brothah 'Lias Scott done tempted matermony six times a'ready, an' 's lookin' roun' fu' de sebent, an' he's a good man, too." "Ma'yin'," said Patsy breathlessly. "Yes, honey, ma'yin', an' I's afeared yo' pappy's got notions in his haid, an' w'en a widower git gals in his haid dey ain' no use a-pesterin' wid 'em, 'case dey boun' to have dey way." "Ma'yin'," said Patsy to herself reflectively.
Dey aint nobody else been here a-pesterin' me since. Now won't dat be gran'? I could live lak de white folks on dat much. "I'se had 'ligion all my born days. "'Twixt de Lawd an' de good white folks I know I's gwine always have somethin' t'eat. President Roosevelt done 'tended to de roof over my head." JOHN CAMERON Jackson, Mississippi John Cameron, ex-slave, lives in Jackson.
"That was the reason I have been a-pesterin' you, goin' back'ards and for'ards. I hope you will excuse me of it," she said irrelevantly. Keith sat quite still for a moment, as it all came over him.
He was a man who, if he exerted himself, could gauge the temper of a mob. The men on the outskirts began moving away easily; the boys followed their example. The little barber took the boy familiarly by the arm. "Now, you look at here," said he. "Don't you hev them chaps a-pesterin' of you no more, an' ef they do, you jest streak right into my parlor an' I'll take care of ye. See?"
"I am mighty glad to hear you say that, and I don't want you to disremember what I have tole you," answered the old woman, with some earnestness. "You aint to go a-pesterin' of Marcy Gray an' his maw, kase there is folks about here who won't by no means take it kind of you if you do."
You'll hatter stan' out in de rain a mighty long time 'fo' you kin talk hoarse ez dat house! "I let you know," continued Uncle Remus, laying his hand gently on the little boy's shoulder, "I let you know, Brer Wolf come a-slinkin' out, en made a break fer home. Atter dat, Brer Rabbit live a long time wid'out any er de yuther creeturs a-pesterin' un 'im!" Teenchy Duck
Bivins, "an' I says, says I, 'Don't you be a-pesterin' the gentulmun, when you know thar's plenty er the new-issue quality ready an' a-waitin' to pull an' haul at 'im, says I. Not that I begrudge the vittles not by no means; I hope I hain't got to that yit.
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