United States or Namibia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"She said she war willin' fer me ter do any other kind of sinnin', ef I jest plain couldn't git outen hit, but she hoped I might die afore doin' that. Then she got on her knees 'n' fer most a hour prayed Gawd ter strike me daid afore He'd see me do hit. She said," he added softly, "hit air on accounten that sin as how-cum she's blind." Jane shuddered.
She laughed, guardedly on Mesmie's account, but it was a taunting, disdainful laugh that cut him to the quick. "Listen to dat!" she sneered. "An' Marse John done said he wouldn' trust you in jail!" "Den how-cum he taken me wid 'im to find dat man Marse Dale done shoot?" the outraged old man, at last taking the bait, triumphantly dashed off with it.
"Yo' put yo' min' on yo' roas' lamb, honey," Calvin suggested. "How-cum you got late?" "That chile kep' me fixin' that pink dress. She ain' never cyard what she wo'. And now she stan' in front o' dat lookin'-glass an' fuss an' fiddle.
"Yo' put yo' min' on yo' roas' lamb, honey," Calvin suggested. "How-cum you got late?" "That chile kep' me fixin' that pink dress. She ain' never cyard what she wo'. And now she stan' in front o' dat lookin'-glass an' fuss an' fiddle.
"So dar wuz sumfin awful 'bout to happen, an' happenin'," the old woman laughed. "But I done put de squee-gee on dat! I hyeerd de fracas, an' hyeerd what he uz sayin', an' knowed jest 'bout how-cum 'twuz." "Oh, Aunt Timmie," the girl impulsively cried, "if everyone had your good heart!" "Mah heart ain' nuthin' to brag on, chile.
Why, I know 'em purty nigh off by heart! That's how-cum I kin talk so good when I stop to think. By repeatin' arter her I know the alphabet, the multiplication table, mental 'rithmetic up ter long dervision, some history, 'n' some g'ography but I hain't never seed a map, nor writin'. Her books is writ in blind." "I think you have learned a great deal," she smiled at him.
He go in whar de tables wuz, an' fix dese heah candles on de cake, jest lak he seen 'em on li'l Miss Ann's. 'How-cum dey's bigger? de dude nigger axed. 'You'se bigger, ain' you? Zack say, an' he walk 'way. Den ole Zack come out 'gin, bowin' hisse'f an' scrapin' his foots to de gals lak he's done lost what li'l sense he ever had.
The Colonel having lately suggested that Mr. Hart, Jr., or Bip, for short being now six years of age, was too big for her to manage, had called forth an eloquent outburst, which concluded with the terse observation: "If I could handle his Pappy an' Mammy, an' his Gran'pappy an' Gran'mammy befoh him, an' all de Mays an' Harts borned dese las' hund'ed yeahs, how-cum I ain' able to handle him?"
Now he continued: "An' onct, when I wuz settin' in mah doh, dis same li'l man come pokin' 'long an' sez, sez he: 'Unc Zack, how-cum you kin see yoh knuckles when yoh fist is shet up tight, an' cyarn' see 'em when yoh han's out straight?" "That's one thing you never did tell me," the boy accusingly cried. "You couldn't!" "I couldn'?" he asked in pained surprise.
Word Of The Day