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Den yo' take one side to Aunt Maria an' be mighty perlite." Lijah, he don' like dis nohow, but he done what his wife tole him. He tote dat side of hawg to Aunt Maria, an' she smile wicked when she see him comin'. "I brung yo' a side of nice hawg what I jes' kill't," says he perlite. "I sho's mighty bleeged," sez Aunt Maria. "I kin use a bit of hawg meat. An' how is yo' gittin' 'long?"
"Feed him them," said Mrs. Patterson, "and you'll be like to hear some real yellin'. What he's doin' now hain't nothin' but his objectin' to you a-carryin' him like he was a horse blanket.... You wait right there till I git a bottle of milk. And I'll fix you some sugar in a rag that you kin put into his mouth if he acts uneasy. It'll quiet him right off." "Much 'bleeged.
When everybody's a-tellin' him, 'Yo' pap's so kind, yo' pap does everything for you; look like you cain't be good enough to him, he 'bleeged to find some way to shake off all that thankfulness 'at's sech a burden to him.
"No," said she. "'Bleeged to ye. I'll pick up suthin'." But later, entering her own kitchen, she stopped and drew a sharp breath, like an outcry against the desolation there. The room was in its homely order, to be broken, she felt, no more. She was childless. All the zest of work had gone. She threw off her shawl then, with a savage impatience at her own grief, and began her tasks.
You've jest told me, I says, 'that you're goin' to foreclose an' I cal'late to protect myself, an' I don't cal'late, I says, 'to have to go an' bid on that prop'ty, an' put in a lot more money to save my investment, unless I'm 'bleeged to not much! an' you can jest sign that morgidge over to me, an' the sooner the quicker, I says."
'Sides, we all's gwine way off yander, an' we can't 'pear no ways 'spectable 'dout little cash money." "But, Winnie, only Nelly and I are going away. You are free now, and will find other friends, and " "Dah! dah! honey," broke in the poor old creature, "don' say no mo'! I's 'bleeged to go 'long. Wat I want to be free for? Who gwine keer 'bout me?
Pappy Blackshears passed away quietly in the evening; and when he had been made ready for his grave by Cornelia's hands, her anxiety for the little daughter at home would not let her remain longer. "I'm jest 'bleeged to go to Huldy," she explained to the relatives and neighbors gathered at the old Blackshears place.
"I ain' got no fault ter fine wid you. You've been used me moughty well, en I'se pow'ful 'bleeged ter you en Marse Tom, he's a gent'mun ef ever I seed one. I ain' go no fault ter fine." The general lost his temper and started up. "Then what do you mean by turning fool at your age?" he demanded angrily. "Haven't I given you a roof over your head all these years?" "Dat's so, suh."
I 'spec you done seed him? I 'spec he come marchin' wif you down de pike f'om dat damn battlefield? I sure would be 'bleeged ef you could tell me, sah." "I wish I could," said Cleave, with gentleness. "I haven't seen him, but maybe some one else has." The old negro drew one hand through the other.
"Ef you ain't got a big wheel fur de ingine fetch a little wheel fur de freight train! We needs a-plenty o' freight kyars on dis salvation train. 'Caze hit's loaded up heavy wid Bibles fur de heathen, an' brick an' lumber to buil' churches, an' medicine fur de sick, an' ole clo'es fur de po' heap ob 'em wid de buttons cut off'n 'em, but dat ain't our fault, we bleeged ter sen' 'em on!
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