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She made a dart at the baby, but he raised a shrill protest, which caused her hopelessly to desist. "O Delphy, you've come between us!" she cried. "I 'low ef I hadn't you'd 'a' run plum crazy," was Delphy's justification. "Dis yer chile's my bizness, en yourn it's down yonder in de parlour wid Marse Dudley." Eugenia wavered and stood irresolute.
An' I can 'member, Br'er Cotten, when you didn' own fo' houses an' a fahm. An' dat ain' all I kin 'member, Mr. Chuhman! When yo' gal Fanny was a baby, an' sick, an' nobody knowed what was de matter wid 'er, who sent fer a doctor, an' paid 'im fer comin', an' who he'ped nuss dat chile, an' tol' yo' wife w'at ter do, an' save' dat chile's life, jes as sho' as de Lawd has save' my soul?
T'war rayther a scant breakfast I've hed, an' hain't gin this chile's in'ards saterfacshun. I'll jest chaw another griskin o' the deer-meat to strengthen me for this six-mile tramp southard."
Dirk cried, "there ain't a soul this side o' the sea ken help my little gal! Ye don' know nothin' o' trouble, lad! Ye don' know what 'tis ter feel that yer chile's dyin' fur want o' somethin' to save it! O Lord! seems as ef I c'u'd swim through this sea to Hastings fur my little gal!"
"Dis chile's sorry sorry," she continued, "but de Lor' ees my strong 'an my sheel." She was speaking very slowly, and had bent over the fire to rake the ashes together.
The boys left the cabin, and Mark called to the colored man, who was in the engine room. "I'll go right instanter this minute," said Washington. "Don't no grass grow under dis chile's feet!" "Now listen," said Mark as he and Jack tiptoed after the colored man.
"Well, two reasons," replied Capua, rolling a glance over the company; "one was dis chile's exertions; an' t'other fact, on account ob wich de flames was checked, was because dere warn't no more to burn. Hi!" "Capua, take Nan, and don't let me see your face again, till I send for it!" said his master, now slightly irate. "Massa's nigger alwes mind him," was the dutiful response. Mrs.
"In all my projeckin' dat chile's wuss'n old mars'r en miss, en de wah, en de preachin'. I kin kin' ob see troo dem, en w'at dey dribin' at, but dat chile grow mo' quare en on'countable eb'y day. Long as she wus took up wid her doll en tame rabbits en pony dar wa'n't no circum'cutions 'bout her, en now she am all circum'cution. Not'n gwine 'long plain wid her.
"Now, Tom D'Willerby," she said, "none of your foolin'. This yere ain't no time for it." "Mars D'Willerby," said Aunt Mornin, "dis chile's mother's a-lyin' dead in the nex' room." Tom stooped a trifle lower. He put out both his hands and took the baby in them. "I'm not foolin'," he said, rather uncertainly. "I'm in earnest, ladies. The mother is dead and the man's going away.
"I never seen nuthin' like 'em afore, Mars' D'Willerby," she said with many excitable giggles. "Dis yer chile's a-gwine to take the flo' shore as yo' bawn! Sich a settin' out as dat is! She'll git ter puttin' on airs afore she's a year ole. We'll hev ter give her a settin' down wunce 'n a while to keep her straight. Mis' Rutherford, she wus boun' to do it up in style, she wus!"
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