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But byme-by they 'low they let him go 'ca'se dat was an accident, an' de captain ghost he say', "Mose, you Mose, Ah gwine let you off dis time, 'ca'se you ain't nuffin' but a misabul li'l' tremblin' nigger; but Ah want you should remimimber one thing mos' particular'." "Ya-yas, sah," say' dat li'l' black boy; "Ah'll remimber. Whut is dat Ah got to remimber?"
Ole Uncle Joe done 'speriencin' dat now; an' byme-by dis chile be wid him dar." "Who dis?" she asked, catching sight of Evelyn standing by her side and regarding her with tearful eyes. "My niece, Evelyn Leland, Aunt Chloe," answered Lester. "She has heard of you, and wanted to see you."
Next day arter we laid her away, it come into my head, 'Now we can burn up them things. It may ha' been wicked, but there 't was, an' the thought kep' arter me, till all I could think of was the chist; an' byme-by I says to Mary Ellen, one mornin', 'Le's open it to-day an' make a burnfire! An' Mary Ellen she turned as white as a sheet, an' dropped her spoon into her sasser, an' she says: 'Not yet!
"There, father!" she cried. "There 'tis!" But Eli's eyes were fixed on the dashboard in front of him. He looked pale. "Why, father," said she, impatiently, "ain't you goin' to look? It's the sea!" "Yes, yes," said Eli, quietly; "byme-by. I'm goin' to put the horses up fust." "Well, I never!" said Mrs.
What he wants now is plenty to eat and good company. You'll be comin' up to see us byme-by, mebbe?" He looked at her hopefully. "Do you think I could?" "Well, I dunno why not. He'll be gettin' restless in a month or so. You might as well be married up there as anywhere. We've got a good minister a fust-rate one." She smiled a little wistfully. "He won't have me," she said.
But byme-by Sally Ann, whut live' up de road, draps in, an' Mistah Sally Ann, whut is her husban', he draps in, an' Zack Badget an' de school-teacher whut board' at Unc' Silas Diggs's house drap in, an' a powerful lot ob folks drap in. An' li'l' black Mose he seen dat gwine be one s'prise-party, an' he right down cheerful 'bout dat.
I got to thinkin' 'bout it, days when I was sailin', and wondering if mebbe the Lord wa'n't gettin' folks ready jest the way he did the rocks rollin' 'em over and havin' 'em pound each other and claw and fight and cool off, slow-like, till byme-by they'd be good sweet earth and grass and little flowers comf'tabul to live with." The artist sat up.
He'd said it every spring fer a number er years, and I didn't mind it no more'n the breakin' up er the river; not so much, jest then; fer the gret spring drive was comin' on, and my hands was tew full to quit work all tew oncet. I sent word I'd be 'long 'fore a gret while, and byme-by I went.
They sat in silence, the girl's head resting on her hand. Uncle William watched her face in the half-light. "You're gettin' tired and kind o' peaked." She looked up. "I am resting." "Yes yes, I know how it is. You stan' all you can and byme-by you come to a place you can rest in, and you jest rest hard." "Yes." "You ought to 'a' asked somebody to help ye," said Uncle William, gently.
Byme-by, when we feel like settin' out for good, we can pike right along the old Boston road, an' that'll take us to aunt Phebe's, an' so on home. But we won't start out till we're good an' ready. I guess you got kinder tired afore." "I'm ready now," said Lydia. The color was in her cheeks. She felt dauntless.
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