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"I'se afeerd he's goin' to die," she muttered in alarm. "I sut'n'ly is. Poah little fellow: he's mighty tryin' to a body's patience sometimes, an' he's made a mess of this mendin', for suah, but I reckon he means all right. He's not so onthinkin' an' onthankful aftah all." She laid the spool and thimble on the window-sill, and folded her hands to rest awhile.
"'Liza done sez as how yo'-all might be hongry aftah yo' ride," said the child, timidly, and then darted out of the room before Ruth and Helen could thank her. They were munching the goodies when Doctor Davison came smilingly in. "That's Mammy 'Liza all over," he said, shaking his head, but with his dark eyes twinkling.
And it says, 'Ah am a ole slave which has suvved fo' 21 yeahs, and ah would be quite pleased if you could help us to be free. We thank you very much. Ah trust that some day ah can do you the same privilege that you are doing for me. "Aftah the wah, ah came to Cincinnati, and ah was married three times. Mah fust wife was Nannie. Then there was Mollie.
The house-pahty and the wedding should have come at the last end of vacation instead of the first, then we would have had something to look forward to all summah, and could have plunged into school directly aftah it." "This July and August will be the quietest we have ever known at The Locusts," chimed in Betty.
I wuzn't married 'til aftah I come up North to Ohio." "Der wuz Marse Beckwith, mighty mean ol' devel; Miss Lucy, his wife, and de chilluns, Miss Manda, Miss Nan, and Marse Dick, and the other son wuz killed in der war at Belmont. Deir hous' wuz big and had two stories and porticoes and den Marse Beckwith owned land with cabins on 'em whar de slaves lived."
"You must 'scuse ouah 'pearance, we des got ingaged." The fair Sally blushed unseen. "What!" cried Isaac. "Ingaged, aftah what I tol' you to-night." His face was a thundercloud. "Yes, suh." "An' is dat de way you stan' up fu' fo'destination?"
The painter of "Louisiana refusing to enter the Union" stood before him, his head elevated loftily, one foot set forward and his arm extended like a tragedian's. "Stan' bag-sah!" "Let me pass! Let me pass, or I will kill you!" Mr. Innerarity smote his bosom and tossed his hand aloft. "Kill me-firse an' pass aftah!" "Citizen Fusilier," said Frowenfeld, "I beg you to hear me." "Go away! Go away!"
He dun wen to de war an' runs 'way frum Harpers Ferry an' cum home jes' sceered to death. He get himsef a pah o' crutches an' neber goes back. Marse John dun used dem crutches 'til aftah de war wuz ovah. Den der wuz ol' Missy Kimberton de gran'muthah. She wuz 'culiar but prutty good, so wuz Marse's chilluns." "Ol' Marse John had bout 20 slaves so de wurk wuzn't so bad on nun ob us.
You know they's an awful wicked man buried down there in the woods, an' the sperrits of them he's inju'ed ha'nts the thicket every night. There isn't anybody, that I know of, that 'ud go down there aftah dark for anything on this livin' yearth." "Then who sees 'em?" asked John Jay, with a skeptical grin.
"Suh," said he, "puhmit a man who was with the victohs of Manasses; who chahged with mo' sand than sense at Franklin; and who cried like a child aftah Nashville, and isn't ashamed of it, by gad! to offah his hand, and to say that he agrees with you, suh, in youah tribute to the soldiers of the wah, and honahs you, suh, as a fohmah foe, and a worthy one, and he hopes, a future friend!"
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