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"Yes, massa, an' dey've diskivered de bandaged arm." "Ay, an' it seems to puzzle 'em," added the seaman. It did more than puzzle them. They had not observed it at first, because, just before running into the woods, Mark had covered it with a loose shawl a sort of linen plaid which the man had worn round his shoulders.
But all de same, dey've fixed it up so's dis killing business ain't perlite wen deres women about, so every feller taks 'is wife along 'o 'im so's not to be ended right away."
"I called de odders, an' de capten come up an' looked at dem a minute sorrowful-like, an' den said, 'Poor fellows! dey've been carried off'n de ice, an' starved till dey froze to death; an' he tould us to bury dem daycently, an' we closed dem up in a pinnacle.
Even Dinah, who was busy about her household duties, and who heard the remark, paused only a moment to turn up her nose and say scornfully: "If dey've done forgot how we allers sarve de likes ob dem, jes' let 'em try it agin. Dat's all." She was a tall, muscular negress, whom an ordinary man might hesitate to make angry.
"Well, I's not 'zactly sure what I means, but he said sulfry. An' dey've bin shook more dan ornar ob late. An' dere's a scienskrific gen'leman in our inn what's bin a-profisyin' as there'll be a grand bust-up afore long." "I hope he'll turn out to be a false prophet," said Lawrence. "What is his name?" "Dun' know, massa.
"Yo' bes', Miss Rena,'ll be de bes' dey is. Don' you worry ner fret. Dem niggers won't have no other teacher after dey've once laid eyes on you: I'll guarantee dat. Dere won't be no trouble, not a bit." "Well, Cousin Molly," said Mary B. to Mis' Molly in the kitchen, "how does the plan strike you?" "Ef Rena's satisfied, I am," replied Mis' Molly.
'Twarn't very likely dat he would, but dar was dat one leetle chance, an' he done took it. 'I is dead, says he. 'You's a long time makin' up your min' 'bout it, says de bar. 'How long you been dead? 'Sence day 'fore yestidday, says the 'possum. 'All right! says de bar, 'when dey've on'y been dead two or free days, an' kin talk, I eats 'em all de same. An' he eat him up."
Well, dey ain't no tellin' deze days whar a nigger's gwineter lan'." "Yes," responded Charley, straightening himself up and speaking in a dignified tone, "yes, I'm fixin' to do better. I'm preparin' fer to shake worldliness. I'm done quit so'shatin' wid deze w'ite town boys. Dey've been a goin' back on me too rapidly here lately, an' now I'm a goin' back on dem."
But once in a while you find some guy dat talks French or German. Dey've got a little standin' army of two t'ree t'ousand men an' dey've got de hottest uniforms you ever did see red an' black an' gold. I don't see why d' United Rates can't get up somethin' foxy fer her soldiers to wear. Had a war over here not long ago, I understand somethin' like ten or fifteen years ago.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Frenchman, reverting to his mother tongue as he never did except under the stress of great excitement. "Who done it?" queried Red Sanders, looking suspiciously at the mucker. "Head-hunters," said Theriere. "God! What an awful fate for that poor girl!" Billy Byrne went white. "Yeh don't mean dat dey've lopped off her block?" he whispered in an awed voice.
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