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'Tell ye, dat ar' boy honors his fader and mudder, ef he don't do nuffin else, an' dat's de fus' commandment wid promise, Ma'am; an' to see him a-settin' up ebery day in prayer-time, so handsome, holdin' Missus's han', an' lookin' right into her eyes all de time! Why, dat ar' boy is one o' de 'lect, it's jest as clare to me; and de 'lect has got to come in, dat's what I say.
"No, you don' do no sech thing!" exclaimed Aunt Patsy, angrily. "I ain't gwine to hab no hosses to run away, an' chuck me out on de road. Ef you kin fotch de oxen an' de cart, I go 'long wid you, but I don' want no hosses." "Dat's fus' rate," said Isham. "I'll fotch de ox cart, an' carry you ober. When you want ter go?"
"But you've got to put de name on de back," said Aunt Judy, anxiously. "Dat's so," said Uncle Braddock, with equal anxiety. "No, I hain't," remarked Aunt Matilda. "I'll tell Ole Miles who to take it to. Put down for de fus' thing: "'Ise been thinkin' fur a long time dat I oughter to write about dis hyar matter, and I s'pose you is the right one to write to." "What matter's dat?" asked Aunt Judy.
I did this in purple copying pencil, as I had nothing more lasting: and generally it read: "In Memory of 19673, Pte. Royal Irish Fus. I had to be tombstone maker and engraver and sometimes even sexton a scout turns his hand to anything. We had our advanced dressing station on the left of Chocolate Hill the proper name of which is Bakka Baba.
De ole 'oman, she tuck 'er stan' nigh de fus' mile-pos', she did, en de chilluns nigh de udders, up ter de las', en dar old Brer Tarrypin, he tuck his stan'. Bimeby, here come de fokes: Jedge Buzzard, he come, en Miss Meadows en de gals, dey come, en den yer come Brer Rabbit wid ribbons tied 'roun' his neck en streamin' fum his years.
Uncle forgets that he has had me taught in United States history. I wish some of them would just march by this out-of-the-way place, for I would like to see for myself what they are like." "Dar, dar, Miss Lou, you gittin' too bumptious. You like de fus' woman who want ter know too much." "No," said the girl, her blue eyes becoming dark and earnest, "I want to know what's true, what's right.
An' jes' arfter he got in, de shed whar it hed fus' cotch fell in, an' de sparks shot 'way up in de air; an' Ham didn' come back, an' de fire begun to lick out under de eaves over whar de ker'ige-hosses' stalls wuz, an' all of a sudden ole marster tu'ned and kissed ole missis, who wuz standin' nigh him, wid her face jes' ez white ez a sperit's, an', befo' anybody knowed what he wuz gwine do, jumped right in de do', an' de smoke come po'in' out behine 'im.
The fus' year after young Madam die he do nothin' but jes' set at the window 'n' look out at her grave, 'n' then come up 'n' look at the baby's neck 'n' say, 'It's fadin', Sophy, a'n't it? 'n' then go down in the study 'n' walk 'n' walk, 'n' them kneel down 'n' pray. Doctor, there was two places in the old carpet that was all threadbare, where his knees had worn 'em.
"Do they get out of their skins?" asked the little boy, in an awed tone. "Tooby sho, honey. You see yo' pa pull his shut off? Well, dat des 'zackly de way dey duz. But dish yere nigger w'at I'm tellin' you 'bout, he kyo'd his brer de ve'y fus pass he made at him. Hit got so dat fokes in de settlement didn't have no peace.
Co'se he smell de grapes en see de vimes, an atter dahk de fus' thing he done wuz ter slip off ter de grapevimes 'dout sayin' nuffin ter nobody. Nex' mawnin' he tole some er de niggers 'bout de fine bait er scuppernon' he et de night befo'. "Wen dey tole 'im 'bout de goopher on de grapevimes, he 'uz dat tarrified dat he turn pale, en look des like he gwine ter die right in his tracks.
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