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An' fur ebry lick you giv' us, we gwi' giv' you er dozen on your naked back, an' es fur dis ole witch," said the brute, pointing to old Aunt Charity, "we got de plain docyments on her fur witchin' Br'er Moses' little gal de same dat she mek hab fits, an' we gwi' hang her to a lim'." The old man drew himself up.
You have to take the lantern presen'ly and go and tell 'em she's here." "Whar is I gwine? And who I gwi' tell?" asked Mr. Collins. "Peter Collins, you is the most unreasonable man I ever see in my life! You sho ain't goin' to worry the po' little thing and make her cry again, askin' all kinds of questions. You jest got to hunt up her folks.
"Nor, he's dead-drunk," said Balla, picking up an empty flask. "Come on out. Let me see what I gwi' do wid you?" he said, scratching his head. "I know what I gwi' do wid you. I gwi' lock you up right whar you is." "Uncle Balla, s'pose he gets well, won't he get out?" "Ain' I gwi' lock him up? Dat's good from you, who was jes' gwi' let 'im out ef me an' Frank hadn't come up when we did."
But if you gwi' be at de old place till Chewsday, me an' him will sho hobble up to see you." As the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, Miss Dorcas and Anne started on their homeward journey. Miss Dorcas clucked and jerked the lines, and Firefly ambled homeward, now jog-trotting along the road, now pausing to nibble grass on the wayside.
My chillen's got to be schooled and give book-learnin'. Some day they'll forget they was ever anything but top rails, and look down on their old daddy and mammy." "I ain't, mammy; I ain't never gwi' look down on you," declared Lizzie. "That's all right, honey," answered Mrs. Collins. "I want you to be hotty and look down on folks. I never could l'arn to do it. I was always too sociable-disposed."
I raikon your mommer don't 'low this foolishness, she know it. I ain't gwi' have you round yere spilin' yer pants, an' have Mis' Trescott light on me pressen'ly. 'Deed I ain't." He spoke with an air of great irritation, but he was not annoyed at all. This tone was merely a part of his importance. In reality he was always delighted to have the child there to witness the business of the stable.
I got er weddin' cake to mek yit this ebenin'. Yes, ma'am I gwi' mek you weddin' cake fill de bigges' pan in de kitchen." She helped Annie rummage in her trunk and get out the sweater she had come in for, and it was not until the girl was running back to the barns that she realized Aunt Dolcey had not answered her question. But the old woman's words had steadied her, reassured her.
"Miss Annie, honey, eve'ybody busy wid his own wheat an', moreover, Marse Wes ain' gwi' let any stranger come on dis place an' cut his wheat you know he ain'." There seemed nothing more to say. In the darkness tears were slowly trickling down Annie's cheeks, and she could not stop them. "Well good-night." "Good-night, my lamb, good-night.
Jes' like white folks think 'cuz you's white and I'se black, I got to wait on yo' all de time. Ne'm mine, I ain' gwi' do it!" The fence having been pulled down sufficiently low to suit his dogship, he marched sedately through, and, with a hardly perceptible lateral movement of his tail, walked on down the road. Putting up the rails carefully, the negro turned and saw me.
He had been seated on the sill of the carriage-house door, but at the beginning of this ceremony he arose and circled towards the buggy, with an interest that slowly consumed the remembrance of a late disgrace. Johnson could then display all the dignity of a man whose duty it was to protect Jimmie from a splashing. "Look out, boy! look out! You done gwi' spile yer pants.
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