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Missis Rucker is backin' his play, an' Jennie herse'f sorter lets him set 'round in the kitchen an' watch her work; which this yore is license an' riot itse'f compared with how she treats others. Occasionally some of us sorter tries to stack up for Jim an' figger out where he stands with the the game. "'How's it goin', Baxter? Enright asks one day. "'It's too many for me, says Jim.
When any of 'em would git sick dey would go to de woods an' git herbs an roots an' make tea for 'em to drink. Hogweed an' May apples was de bes' things I knowed of. Sometimes old Mistis doctored 'em herse'f. One time a bunch o' us chillun was playin' in de woods an foun' some o' dem May apples. Us et a lot of 'em an' got awful sick. Dey dosed us up on grease an' Samson snake root to clean us out.
Des den, Brer Jesse, he riz up in his seat, sorter keerless like, an' went down inter his britches atter his razer, an' right den I know'd sho' nuff trubble wuz begun. Sis Dilsey, she seed it herse'f, an' she tuck'n let off wunner dem hallyluyah hollers, an' den I disremember w'at come ter pass. "I'm gittin' sorter ole, Brer Rastus, an' it seem like de dus' sorter shet out de pannyrammer.
She got de hot water, an' she dipped de flannels in it, an' she wrop up de ankle all herse'f, an' when she got him all fixed comfable in de offis, she says to me, says she, 'Now, Isham, you wait on Mister Crof', an' you gib him eberything he want, an' when de cool ob de ebenin' comes on you make a fire in dat fireplace, an' stay whar he kin call you wheneber he wants you to wait on him. I didn't eben come down h'yar till I axed him would he want me fur half an hour."
An' when dey talk' back at her, she up an' she says, 'Look-a-heah! she says, 'I want you niggers to understan' dat I wa'n't bawn in de mash be fool' by trash! I's one o' de ole Blue Hen's chickens, I is! an' den she clar' dat kitchen an' bandage' up de chile herse'f. So I says dat word, too, when I's riled.
"She's middlin' po'ly, same's ever; got great rings under her eyes and her heart's dat heaby makes abody cry ter look at 'er. But she ain't sick, jes' griebin' herse'f to death. Ain't yer gwineter stop and see 'er? May be I kin git ye in de back way." "Not now not here. Bring her to Uncle George's house to-morrow about noon, and I will be there.
When he caught the measles from Sairy Baxter's baby Lizzie sot up day 'nd night till he wuz well, holdin' his hands 'nd singin' songs to him, 'nd cryin' herse'f almost to death because she dassent give him cold water to drink when he called f'r it.
"'Most like I was about thirteen years old when the Confederacy declar's herse'f a nation, elects Jeff Davis President, an' fronts up for trouble.
"She done went up to Mist' Gallowayses' blacksmith shop to git herse'f some new shoes." This pluralization of a familiar name was evidence on Bill Tilghman's part of the estimation in which he held our leading farrier, Mr. P. J. Galloway. "All right, take one of the other mules then. But get a hustle on," ordered Mr. Givens as he reëntered his office.
But somehow er nudder de niggers foun' out all 'bout it, en dey knowed de kitchen wuz ha'anted by Sandy's sperrit. En bimeby hit got so Mars Marrabo's wife herse'f wuz skeered ter go out in de yard atter dark. "W'en it come ter dat, Mars Marrabo tuk 'n' to' de kitchen down, en use' de lumber fer ter buil' dat ole school-'ouse w'at youer talkin' 'bout pullin' down.
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