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Dey aint nobody else been here a-pesterin' me since. Now won't dat be gran'? I could live lak de white folks on dat much. "I'se had 'ligion all my born days. "'Twixt de Lawd an' de good white folks I know I's gwine always have somethin' t'eat. President Roosevelt done 'tended to de roof over my head." JOHN CAMERON Jackson, Mississippi John Cameron, ex-slave, lives in Jackson.

"When I's nigh out ob my wits, so's my innards feels like nuffin' but warmish water, I gits whitey-grey in de chops, so I's told, an' blue in de lips, an' I pretends nuffin' I don't care who sees it!" The track for some distance beyond this point became worse and worse.

Horton at home, having just finished his lunch. They were admitted at once to the dining-room, where the doctor sat picking his teeth. He had never seen Alston, as the new negroes had been bought by an agent. "Sarvant, moster!" Alston said humbly, but with dignity. "Howdy, moster?" was Little Lizay's more familiar salutation. "I's Als'on, one yer new boys from Ol' Virginny."

"You's tired out, chile," said Hagar, with ready sympathy; "better go to bed. I's been makin' ye one in de room jes' side o' Mas'r Dick's. Bes' room in de whole house!" The music had ceased, and Noll left his seat and went groping his way along the dark, echoing hall, through the dimly-lighted dining-room to the library-door.

"Reckon I am," said Joe. "Generally pass for one." Then, although he knew quite well just why the man had come, from whom, for whom, he asked sternly to confuse him: "What you doin' in these mountings?" "I's lookin' fo' my massa, young Marse Frank Layson, suh," Neb answered timidly. "You needn't to go fur to find him," Lorey answered bitterly. "You needn't to go fur to find him."

And accordingly, at the next catechizing, the Doctor's astonishment was great when Candace pressed up to him, exclaiming "De Lord bress you, Doctor, for opening de prison for dem dat is bound! I b'liebes in you now, Doctor. I's gwine to b'liebe ebery word you say. I'll say de Catechize now, fix it any way you like.

It is no part of my scheme to dot the "i's" and cross the "t's" of Wordsworth and Hazlitt. I best fulfil my purpose in urgently referring you to them. I have only a single point of my own to make a psychological detail. One of the main obstacles to the cultivation of poetry in the average sensible man is an absurdly inflated notion of the ridiculous.

"Wal, I can't help it," said Aunt Chloe, hiding her face in her apron; "I 's so tossed about it, it makes me act ugly." The boys stood quite still, looking first at their father and then at their mother, while the baby, climbing up her clothes, began an imperious, commanding cry. "Thar!" said Aunt Chloe, wiping her eyes and taking up the baby; "now I's done, I hope, now do eat something.

I know jes' how much I kin make an' how much I's got to spend an' how I kin save ter buy the house, an' if I agree to pay you so much money on such a day an' so much on such anudder day I's gwine ter do it. You kin jes' put that down, sah, for sartin shuh." "Well, Grandison," said Mr. Morris, "I'll give you a trial.

The 'said I's, and 'thought I's, and 'said he's, which are the material of his ordinary reasoning, are here banished on the ground that they are 'not evidence, and witnesses are compelled to give a simple account of their remembered sensations of sight and hearing.