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Dis sure am de spot, all right an' dar's got ter be a trail 'round yere sumwhar." Rene remained motionless, her eyes searching the shadows, as though half frightened at finding herself in such dismal surroundings. The girl's face appeared white and drawn in that twilight.

At that hour set out for Berlin; and bring back Rhody Holland with you in the morning." "It's more dan thirty mile, marster, an' a sandy road." "No matter. Take it slow. I will write you a letter to carry. Samson, I am going to be married to-night to the rose of Princess Anne." "Dar's on'y one," said Samson. "Not Miss Vesty Custis?" "Yes, Samson. Princess Anne may now have something to howl at.

"'Well, sez de Jay Bird, 'I've jes put er few 'provemunce up, fur ter keep de scritch-owls outn my nes'; but dar's plenty room fur my frien's ter git thu; jes come in, sezee; an' de Woodpecker he started thu de crack. Soon's eber he got his head thu, de Jay pullt de chip out, an' de big stick fell right crossn his neck.

I jest happen to know dat in dis worl' dey's wicked people dat'll stoop deeper'n sin fer a dime; an' dey's onery people, so mis'ably onery, dat's afeerd to call dey soul dey own; an' dar's still anurr kind what ain' had no trainin', so when a stylish gemman comes 'long dey's mighty apt to go wrong, 'caze dey ain' had a faih show.

"W'at dey fix um fer, den?" asked one of the practical negroes. "Dat's w'at I wanter know," said Uncle Remus, contemplatively. "But dat's w'at Miss Sally wuz a readin' in de paper. All you gotter do is ter holler at de box, an' dar's yo' remarks.

Dar, dar, now ye'r' cryin'! cry away, and ease yer poor little heart! He died for Mass'r Jim, loved him and died for him, jes' give up his sweet, precious body and soul for him on de cross! Laws, jes' leave him in Jesus' hands! Why, honey, dar's de very print o' de nails in his hands now!"

My young Mistis Mars D'Willerby bought me from, I've raised three o' hern, an' I'm used to bilin' it right and d'lutin' it down right. Dar's a heap in de d'lutin'. Dis yere bottle's ready now, Mis' Doty, ef ye want it." "It's the very bottle I raised Martin Luther on," said Mrs. Doty. "It brings back ole times to see it. She takes it purty well, don't she? Massy sakes!

And then, without waiting for a reply: "Miss Sally, she sick in bed, en Mars John, he bleedzd ter go in de country, en dey tuck'n sont me. I know'd you de minnit I laid eyes on you. Time I seed you, I say ter myse'f, 'I lay dar's Miss Doshy, en, sho nuff, dar you wuz. You ain't gun up yo' checks, is you? Kaze I'll git de trunk sont up by de 'spress waggin."

"Lawd A'mighty, dar's bad times yer, Miss Sary!" he cried, "Miss Angela she's been mos' dead fur goin' on two hours, en we all's done sont Cephus on de bay horse arter Marse Jonathan!" Three days later the bay horse returned at a gallop with Jonathan Gay in the saddle.

"High tide in one hour from now, and de Reindeer was gwine out den for shore. Dat's de whole story, massa, and not bery long." "All right, Quimp. Now where is the Reindeer?" "Ober de oder side ob long key, massa. Dar's more'n four fadoms ob water under dis boat now, and twelve feet 'tween de two keys," added the boatman, whose tongue was fully unlocked by this time.