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An' dat li'l black Mose so skeered he jes fall down on e' old log whut dar an' screech an' moan! An' all on a suddent de log up and spoke to li'l Mose: "Get offen me! Get offen me!" yell dat log. So li'l black Mose he git offen dat log, an' no mistake. An' soon as he git offen de log, de log uprise, an' li'l black Mose he see dat dat log am de king ob all de ghostes.
Once on a time, 'way down South, there lived a little boy named Hannibal, Li'l' Hannibal. He lived along with his gran'mammy and his gran'daddy in a li'l' one-storey log cabin that was set right down in a cotton field. Well, from morning until night, Li'l' Hannibal's gran'mammy kept him doin' things.
Always biffo', those De l'Isle they are of the, eh, the beau monde and though li'l' by li'l' losing their fortune, keeping their frien', some of them rich, yet still ad the same time nize people. And that young De l'Isle he's a good-looking, well-behave', ambitiouz, and got what you call dash!
'Yes, 'deed, kine frien', she say, she say, when they ast her: 'Miss Julia, ma'am, they say, 'I like please strike a match fer to light my cigareet if you please, ma'am. She say: 'Light as many as you please, kine frien', she say, she say. She say: 'Smell o' cigareet dess deligh'ful li'l smell, she say.
"Well, I'm not going to let you do that any more." "I don' hurt nobody," he protested. "I sing plenty song an' fight li'l bit. A man mus' got some fun." "Won't you promise for my sake?" 'Poleon gave in after some hesitation; reluctantly he agreed. "Eh bien! Mos' anyt'ing I promise for you, ma soeur. But she's goin' be mighty poor trip for me. S'pose mebbe I forget dose promise?"
"Where's the kid?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "What child?" Miss Eva snapped. "You've come to see one of our pupils?" Miss Nellie faltered. "Yeah. Hers." "Hers?" "W'y, Miss Le Fay's li'l boy." "Oh, Freddy?" "Sure! Does he he don't you ain't tole 'im yet, have you?" "Told him what?" "My God! don't you know?" Bert Brannigan stared at the ladies, mopping his brow with the lavender handkerchief.
Then it could be printed out for 'em like t'other was." "You don't understand you won't understand even you." "I caan't please 'e to-day. I likes the li'l verses ever so. You do make such things seem butivul to my ear an' so true as a photograph." Clem shivered and stretched his hand for the paper. Then, in a moment, he had torn it into twenty pieces and sent the fragments afloat. "There!
'Poleon's big hand closed over hers; in a voice too low for any but her ears he said: "Somet'ing is kill de song in your heart, ma petite. I give my life for mak' you happy. Sometam you care for tell me, mebbe I can he'p li'l bit." The girl suddenly bowed her head; her struggling tears overflowed reluctantly; in a weary, heartsick murmur she confessed: "I'm the most miserable girl in the world.
And you yawpin' out real loud how interested you are in seeing how the Bar S gets a square deal, and letting out only a small peep about old Dale, and thinking yo're foolin' Swing to a fare-you-well. Oh, yeah. It's the Dale's li'l ranch that's been worrying you alla time. I know. Racey's actually got a girl at last. I kind of suspicioned it, but I didn't think it was so heap big serious.
I dug in the ground with a sharp stick, and I made a li'l hole like, and I filled her in again, and tramped her all down flat, and sort of half smoothed down the roughed-up ground like I was trying to hide my tracks and what I'd been doing. Then I came away.
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