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But, let erlone dat, yer kin go efn yer wants ter; an' efn yer'll make has'e an' git yer bunnits, caze I ain't gwine wait no gret wile. I don't like ter go ter meetin' atter hit starts. I want ter hyear Brer Dan'l's tex', I duz. I can't neber enj'y de sermon doutn I hyears de tex'."
"Take that half a dollar, boy," ordered McBane, "an' go 'cross the street to Mr. Sykes's, and tell him to send me three whiskies. Bring back the change, and make has'e." The captain tossed the half dollar at Jerry, who, looking to one side, of course missed it. He picked the money up, however, and backed out of the room.
It wuz a easy face ter 'member; an' I swo' den, 'way down deep in my hea't, little ez I wuz, dat some day er 'nother I'd kill dat man. I ain't never had no doubt erbout it; it's jus' w'at I'm livin' fer, an' I know I ain' gwine ter die till I've done it. Some lives fer one thing an' some fer another, but dat's my job. I ain' be'n in no has'e, fer I'm not ole yit, an' dat man is in good health.
"Jerry," said the general, "step across to Brown's and tell him to send me three Calhoun cocktails. Wait for them, here's the money." "Yas, suh," replied Jerry, taking the proffered coin. "And make has'e, charcoal," added McBane, "for we're gettin' damn dry." A momentary cloud of annoyance darkened Carteret's brow. McBane had always grated upon his aristocratic susceptibilities.
Fust I seed was a man plump out'n Willums's, Miss Jinny. He was a-gwine shufflin' up de street when Marse Clarence put out after him, pos' has'e. Den he run." She stood for a moment on the pavement in thought, and paused on the stairs again, wondering whether it were best to tell her father. Perhaps Clarence had seen she caught her breath at the thought and pushed open the door.
Befo' he got ter de do', howsomevuh, he 'membered he had locked it, so he didn' stop ter try ter open it, but went straight out'n a winder, quicker'n lightnin', an' kyared de sash 'long wid 'im. An' he'd be'n in sech pow'ful has'e dat he knock' de lamp over an' lack ter sot de house afire.
Tryon, with parted lips and slowly hardening heart, leaned forward from the buggy-seat, gripping the rein so tightly that his nails cut into the opposing palm. Above the clatter of noisy conversation rose the fiddler's voice: "Swing yo' pa'dners; doan be shy, Look yo' lady in de eye! Th'ow yo' ahm aroun' huh wais'; Take yo' time dey ain' no has'e!"
Robelia waited on tiptoe. "Go fetch him," murmured Euonymus, "an' make has'e." "Wait! You're a good boy, Euonymus, ain't you?" "I cayn't say dat, mi'ss; but I'm glad ef you thinks so." "Y' is good!" said Robelia. "You knows you is!" "Never mind," I said; "do you belong to Zion?" The dark face grew radiant. "Yass'm, I does!" "Euonymus, how many more of you-all are there besides daddy and mammy?"
Fust I seed was a man plump out'n Willums's, Miss Jinny. He was a-gwine shufflin' up de street when Marse Clarence put out after him, pos' has'e. Den he run." She stood for a moment on the pavement in thought, and paused on the stairs again, wondering whether it were best to tell her father. Perhaps Clarence had seen she caught her breath at the thought and pushed open the door.
Fust I seed was a man plump out'n Willums's, Miss Jinny. He was a-gwine shufflin' up de street when Marse Clarence put out after him, pos' has'e. Den he run." She stood for a moment on the pavement in thought, and paused on the stairs again, wondering whether it were best to tell her father. Perhaps Clarence had seen she caught her breath at the thought and pushed open the door.
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