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He noticed that the darkey did not enter with him, but ran up the stairs. He could see him rushing around the curves, his hands sliding on the railings. He met him at the door of the elevator and motioned to him "This way, suh." A dull fire of soft coal was burning on the grate, and the boy punched it up, and said, "'Nother gent jes' left. I git some mo' coal."

No know namee. No know where comee from. No talkee. "Sing he jes' hearee Mlaxon tellee Hornee 'bout Nlumber Thlirteen. How he makee him for Linee. Makee Linee mally him. Sing he know what kindee fleaks Mlaxon makee. Linee always good to old Sing. Sing he been peeking thlu clack in wallee. See blig vlat where Thlirteen growing. "Sing he takee you to Sing's shackee that night.

"You keep it, ma'am, an' buy yorese'f somethin' for a p-pretty. I'd jes' b-blow it anyhow. Hope you'll be r-real happy. If this yere young s-scalawag don't treat you h-handsome, Tom an' Dud'll be glad to ride over an' beat him up proper 'most any time you give 'em the high sign. Am I right, boys?" "Sure are," they said, grinning bashfully.

She was met by old Katie, who was on her way to answer the bell that had been rung for her, and who, as soon as she saw her mistress, raised both her hands in deprecation, and in her terror began to speak as if Lady Vincent were still a child and she was still her nurse and keeper: "Now, Miss Claudia, honey, you jes' go right straight back ag'in! Dis aint no place for sich as you, chile.

She met him at the edge of the candle light and took his hand. "Can't you tell me about it, Pete?" With angry self-accusation he replied: "I cud 'a' got the horses, Mira, an' an' we'd 'a' bin back in the Hills long before this. Thar was jes' a padlock to smash . . . an' I didn't smash it." She smiled sadly and wound a small arm about his neck. "I know," she whispered.

She done been bawn in de Colby famb'ly, an' she know Mars' Colby better dan he know he'self. Fiery as he was, she know dat if yo' kin mak' him laff, he'd fo'give a nigger 'most anyt'ing. "So my ol' mammy tol' Sally Alley wot tuh say an' do. Sally wipe her eyes an' mak' herse'f neat erg'in, an' wa'k up ter de big house brave as a lion in de seemin' jes' as de gran' folkses comes out upon de lawn.

"I am afraid her hair will have to be cut," said Lucy, ruefully, as she held up a tangled snarl of yellow and green. "All right," Mrs. Wiggs said promptly. "Whatever you say is all right." But Australia felt differently; her sobs, suppressed for a time, broke forth afresh. "I ain't goin' to have my hair cut off!" she wept. "Jes' leave it on this a-way." Mrs.

The old man bit off a conservative chew from his small plug, carefully wrapped the remainder in his handkerchief and chewed thoughtfully for some time before he continued. "I wasn't bawn in Florida, but I be'n here so long I reckon hit 'bout de same thing. I kin jes remember leavin' Norfolk. My daddy an' mammy an' de odder chillun b'long to a Frenchman named Pinckney.

Den he gets out and looks roun' kind o' quick, jes' like de possum in de kohn, as ef he was 'fraid somebody done see 'im. I was fixin' de roses on de front poach, an' I looked at 'im pow'ful sharp, an' when de dooh opened he jumped in quick, as ef he was glad to get out o' sight.

An' after all dat diggin'! We done an' digged a hole 'bout fifteen or twenty feet across, and goodness knows how deep; an' 'twas 'bout four in de mornin' before we quit. We pack up an' come back home, feelin' jes as cheap as a wet chicken. "De ole 'oman come 'roun agin, an' tole us dat de money was dere; fer de sperit had tole her agin 'twas dere. But we warn't anxious to try for it agin.