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Let's have another look at you! Mr Boffin ah, how fallen from the high estate of his honest simplicity! opened the door and obeyed. 'Go in. You may get to bed now, said Wegg, with a grin. The door was hardly closed, when he again called through the keyhole: 'Bof fin! 'Yes, Wegg.
An' massa, he say, `Go' nuffin more; only `Go; but ob course das nuff for me, so I hoed; an' now we're bof goin'." At this point in the conversation they came to a place where the road forked. Here they met a number of Arabs, hasting towards the town in a somewhat excited frame of mind.
"Have they caught the rascals?" asked Lawrence, suddenly recollecting what had passed, and raising himself on one elbow. "I not know, massa. Nobody here to tell." "How what where are the troops?" "Dun know, massa; gone arter de Injins, I s'pose, an' de Injins gone arter deir own business, an' bof gone off de face ob de art' altogidder so far as I can see."
"Sposin' I was to go to N' Orleans an' take sick and die, Laik a bird into de country ma spirit would fly." And after a while down the path the red and yellow of Mammy Easter's bandanna was seen. "Supper, Miss Jinny. Laws, if I ain't ramshacked de premises fo' you bof. De co'n bread's gittin' cold."
He has been known to say, with a solemnity that might tickle the humorous and horrify the timid, that he wouldn't "hab dat game leg made straight agin! no, not for a hundred t'ousand pounds. 'Cause why? it was an eber-present visible reminder dat once upon a time he had de libes ob massa and Nadgel in his arms a-hangin' on to his game leg, an' dat, t'rough Gracious Goodness, he sabe dem bof!" Ha!
Well, arter de speech about de wedder, dey bof blushed I could see dat, dough I was tryin' hard not to look, and dey was so long silent dat I begin to t'ink ob offerin' to help, when Massa Lawrence he plucked up heart all ob a suddent, an' went in like a good un.
'That's not going to be done, Wegg, replied Mr Boffin, sitting composedly on the library-table, at one end, while the Secretary sat composedly on it at the other. 'Bof fin! Not going to be done? repeated Wegg. 'Not at your peril? 'No, Wegg, said Mr Boffin, shaking his head good-humouredly. 'Not at my peril, and not on any other terms.
"Marse cap'n, you gwine on a journey. Wa't yo' wife wish mo'n dat you git ready fer de journey? She tek dat journey too, bime by soon, en you bof be at de same deah home." "Ah, uncle, if that could be true, the sting of death would be gone." "Sut'ny, marse cap'n. Didn't I know dat ar w'en I mek bole ter speak? Now des tink on hit, mars'r. De worl' full ob poor folks lak me.
On so auspicious an occasion, I prefer to take it in the form of a Gum-Tickler. Mr Boffin, declining rum, being still elevated on his pedestal, was in a convenient position to be addressed. Wegg having eyed him with an impudent air at leisure, addressed him, therefore, while refreshing himself with his dram. 'Bof fin! 'Yes, Wegg, he answered, coming out of a fit of abstraction, with a sigh.
"But his cell was in the second story, and how did he reach the ground?" "He made a rope ob de bedclothes an' clum down dem. Dey thinks he frew de same rope ober de wall, an' Turner held de outer end while Wiles clum to de top; den he could easy drap to de bottom. Ah 'spects dey bof cl'ar out togedder, an' by dis time air way back on de knobs safe an' sound."
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