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For forty years he has trod the narrer path, stumpin' his toe now an' then, but allers gettin' up agin, for forty years he has he'ped others all he cu'd, been charitable an' forgivin', as hones' as the temptation would permit, an' only a natural lie now an' then as to the weather or the size of a fish, trustin' in God to make it all right.
My pappy built us a shack on dat lan'. It's tore down now, but it was built good. Us all he'ped. I pulled a cross-cut saw an' toted de boards up on de roof on a ladder. De chimley was built out o' mud an' rocks. Den us moved in an' started growin' us somp'in t'eat. Us didn' have no horse an' plow; Yankees done carried off all de horses an' mules an' burnt up ever'dthing lak plows.
Billy understood his friend. Mark opened his eyes and roused a little. Presently he drank some more, nearly a whole glass full and Billy took heart of hope. "Do ya think ya could get up now, Cart, ef I he'ped ya?" he asked anxiously, "We gotta get after those guys ur they'll make a getaway." "Sure!" said Mark rousing again. "Go to it, Kid. I'm with you," and he tried to sit up.
Dere was a no-'count yaller gal, Sally Alley dey call her, wot he'ped erbout de breakfas' an' sech; but she warn't a sho' 'nuff cook naw'm! "She 'lowed she was. She was de beatenes' gal for t'inkin' she knowed eberyt'ing. But, glo-ree! dar wasn't nobody on dat plantation wot could cook er goose tuh suit Mars' Colby lak' my ol' mammy.
An' I can 'member, Br'er Cotten, when you didn' own fo' houses an' a fahm. An' dat ain' all I kin 'member, Mr. Chuhman! When yo' gal Fanny was a baby, an' sick, an' nobody knowed what was de matter wid 'er, who sent fer a doctor, an' paid 'im fer comin', an' who he'ped nuss dat chile, an' tol' yo' wife w'at ter do, an' save' dat chile's life, jes as sho' as de Lawd has save' my soul?
Dick Sands ended his harangue by turning a somersault. "I jes bet Dick Sands owes Tom Miller now," said a young chap who sat leaning against the wall with his legs spread out, laughing at Dick's Indian-like antics. "Yes," broke in another; "Tom's he'ped er lot er we po' devals; he's lent out thousans er dollars in all ter white men. Hits er shame ter do him!"
I seed you, you know, down dere where you live; but I did n' let on, fer you an' Mis' Rena wuz w'ite as anybody; an' eve'ybody said you wuz good ter cullud folks, an' he'ped 'em in deir lawsuits an' one way er 'nuther, an' I wuz jes' plum' glad ter see you gettin' 'long so fine, dat I wuz, certain sho', an' no mistake about it."
Since freedom mah main job wuz cookin' but I'se done washin' en ironin'. Atter mah health started failing, I done a lot ob nusin'. I'se aint abul ter wuk fur de las' five y'ars en de white folks hab he'ped me. De relief gibes me groc'eys, coal en pays mah rent. I hope ter git de ole age pension soon. Mah ole favo'ite song ez "Mazing Grace, How Sweet hit Sounds."
No'm, de spinnin' wheels was kep' in de kitchen of de Big House. Hit had a dirt flo'. Us jes wo' li'l old suits made out'n lowell cloth whut mammy wove on de loom. I doan 'member wearin' no shoes. "I jes played roun' 'bout de place an' he'ped wid de cleanin' up an' dish washin'. Kinder house boy, I was. "When us got sick, mammy made us pills out'n herbs.
Ev'ry day I's he'ped yer git up ter a hunderd." Alston had stopped picking, both his hands full of cotton, and stood staring in a bewildered way at the girl. "Lizay, is this a fac'?" he said at length. "'Tis so, Als'on; an' ef yer don't lemme he'p yer now yer'll fall 'hin' an' have ter git flogged." "An' ef yer he'p me, yer'll fall shawt an' have ter git flogged.
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