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"Hit's cert'nly good news fo' Fahfiel', Marse Philip, hit's mighty good news fo' us niggers, sah. I'se b'longed to the Fahfiel' fam'ly a hund'ed years, Marse me and my folks, and I wishes yo' a welcome home, sah welcome home, Marse Philip." Philip bent with a quick movement from his horse, and gripped the twisted old black hand, speechless.
Proudfit laughed with manly glee, and offered no other interruption. "Well, seh, then it come Jeff-Jack's turn to keep his word the best he could." "Which he's done," said Gamble. "Yes, Jeff-Jack got still anotheh bill brought in an' paassed. It give the three thousan' to Rosemont entieh, an' authorized the three counties to raise the fifteen hund'ed a year by county tax." The Captain laughed.
So you k'n be sho de darkies did n' hab much ter do wid dem scuppernon' vimes. "W'en de scuppernon' season 'uz ober fer dat year, Mars Dugal' foun' he had made fifteen hund'ed gallon er wine; en one er de niggers hearn him laffin' wid de oberseah fit ter kill, en sayin' dem fifteen hund'ed gallon er wine wuz monst'us good intrus' on de ten dollars he laid out on de vimya'd.
"Dar ain' no use talkin'," Uncle Zack stamped the ground. "I'se been waitin' on de May fam'ly fer up'ards of a hund'ed yeahs, an' dis am de fu'st time any of 'em done 'sult me!" There was a pause while Bip looked at him with wide, serious eyes, and the Colonel from his secluded vantage point silently chuckled. "I didn't mean to insult you, Uncle Zack," the little boy explained.
An' he got bruddeh name' 'Mian Roussel. But dat not de ole, ole 'Mian like dey say de ole he one. 'Caze, you know, he done peg out. Oh, yes, he peg out in de du'in' o' de waugh. But he lef' heap-sight chillen; you know, he got a year' staht o' all de res', you know. Yes, seh. Dey got 'bout hund'ed fifty peop' yond' by Gran' Point', and sim like dey mos' all name Roussel. Sim dat way to me.
She is very active and does most of her own work. "I was born in Choctaw County, but I never knowed zackly how old I was, 'cause none o' my folks could read an' write. I reckon I be's 'bout a hund'ed, 'cause I was a big girl long time fo' Surrender. I was old 'nough to marry two years after dat. "My mammy come from Virginny. Her name was Harriet Brewer. My daddy was my young Marster.
I's lived a long life an' will soon be a hund'ed, I guess. I's glad dat slav'ry is over, 'cause de Bible don't say nothin' 'bout it bein right. I's a good Christian. I gits sort-a res'less mos' o' de time an' has to keep busy to keep from thinkin' too much." Pet Franks, Ex-Slave, Monroe County FEC Mrs. Richard Kolb Rewrite, Pauline Loveless Edited, Clara E. Stokes PET FRANKS Aberdeen, Mississippi
Finally he said: "'Tain't no use to cuss; that won't build yoh cabin. Jest go like you don't know nuthin' 'bout it, an' say you've come for that hund'ed for me. An' if he says he ain't goin' to send it, jest say all right, that you'll go right on over to Arden an' ax the Cunnel an' his folks if they don't think it's fair an' squar. Jest say that!
"Son," said the father as they rode, "I reckon you've often wondered why, owning ow hund'ed thousand an' sixty acres, we should appeah so sawt o' reduced; haven't you?" "Sir?" The father repeated the question, and John said, dreamily: "No, sir." "Well, son, I'll tell you, though I'd rather you'd not mention it in school, faw instance if we can eveh raise money to send you to school.
Dat's how I knows I'll be one hund'ed years old if I lives 'til de turn o' de year. I was born in Jefferson County 'tween Hamburg an' Union Church. De plantation joined de Whitney place an' de Montgomery place, too. I b'longed to Marse Jeems Stowers. I don't rightly 'member how many acres my Marster owned, but 'twas a big plantation wid eighty or ninety head o' grown folks workin' it.
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