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Allee 'light velly soon, and make big burn." "What! and roast the wretches on board to death?" "Some," said Ching, with a pleasant smile. "Makee squeak, and cly `Oh! oh! and burn all 'way like fi'wo'k. Look velly nice when it dalk." "How horrid!" I cried. "Not all bu'n up," said Ching; "lot jump ove'board and be dlown."
"That's it, Mammy," replied Jack, gayly, "we're fighting for freedom, and we haven't had it yet, you see." "Is dat ar freedom vittles?" scornfully retorted the old woman. "Is it close? is it wood ter bu'n?" "Oh, it will soon be here and you'll find out," said Virginia, cheerfully, and when a little later she settled herself in her pleasant rooms, she returned to her assurances.
Lay down yo'n, an' we'll lay down ou'n, we didn' take 'em up fust; but we ain' gwine ter let you bu'n down ou' chu'ches an' school'ouses, er dis hospittle, an' we ain' comin' out er dis house, where we ain' disturbin' nobody, fer you ter shoot us down er sen' us ter jail. You hear me!" "All right," responded McBane. "You've had fair warning.
"Oh, lebe de woods uv damnation; Come out in de fields uv salvation; Fur de Lord's gwine ter bu'n up creation, Wen de day uv jedgment come.
"But ole Brer B'ar say he gwineter make way wid 'im, en den he sot en study, ole Brer B'ar did, how he gwineter squench Brer Bull-frog. He know he can't drown 'im, en he ain't got no fier fer ter bu'n 'im, en he git mighty pestered.
I want you to see em bu'n." "No, no!" he said. But the papers were already curling, and in a moment they were in a blaze. "Thaih," she said, "thaih, now, Viney Raymond!" Ben gave a great gasp, then sprang forward and took her in his arms and kicked the packed chest into the corner. And that night singing was heard from Ben's cabin and the sound of the banjo.
Except their house-keeper, a young English girl, they three were the only white persons on their beautiful "North End" estate when on Sunday night their slaves came to them in force demanding "freedom papers." "Not under compulsion, never!" "Den obbe set eb'ryt'ing on fiah! Wen yo' house bu'n up we try t'ink w'at too do wid you and de missie!"
"I'm looking for my wife and child, Josh. They're somewhere in this den of murderers. Have any of you seen them?" No one had seen them. "You men are running a great risk," said Miller. "You are rushing on to certain death." "Well, suh, maybe we is; but we're gwine ter die fightin'. Dey say de w'ite folks is gwine ter bu'n all de cullud schools an' chu'ches, an' kill all de niggers dey kin ketch.
The whole negro population of the South might be slaughtered before the necessary red tape could be spun out to inform the President that a state of anarchy prevailed. There's no hope there." "Den w'at we gwine ter do?" demanded Josh indignantly; "jes' set here an' let 'em hang Sandy, er bu'n 'im?" "God knows!" exclaimed Miller. "The outlook is dark, but we should at least try to do something.
Hannibal sta'ted in de house soon in de mawnin' wid a armful er wood ter make a fire, en he had n' mo' d'n got 'cross de do'-sill befo' his feet begun ter bu'n so dat he drap' de armful er wood on de flo' en woke ole mis' up a' hour sooner 'n yushal, en co'se ole mis' did n' lack dat, en spoke sha'p erbout it.
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