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For an instant the scene went black before his eyes, and as he staggered forward, Big Abel caught his arm. "I'se hyer, Marse Dan, I'se hyer," groaned the negro in his ear. "But the others? Where are the others?" asked Dan, coming to himself. "Hold me, Big Abel, I'm an utter fool. O Congo! Is that Congo?"
She had the wit to know that Mara would yield far more out of consideration for her than for any thought of self, so she said as a masterpiece of strategy, "Marse Clancy ax me to-day if I stole de cakes." "What," cried Mara, flushing hotly. "Jes dat ef I stole de cakes; an' anoder man say I was gittin' new reseets or dat somebody was coachin' me, whateber dat is.
Off with you, Benjy, and find out where she lives," he cried, and the obedient Benjy dropped the saddle-bags as though such commands were not uncommon. "Pick up those bags, Benjy," said I, laughing. Benjy glanced uncertainly at his master. "Do as I tell you, you black scalawag," said Nick, "or I'll tan you. What are you waiting for?" "Marse Dave " began Benjy, rolling his eyes in discomfiture.
"You damned old liar don't you tell me again you put that pitchfork away when I found it myself in the stable behind the mare's stall. Pretty business if she'd knocked it down and run one of the tines into her." "Marse Wes, you haddat pitchfo'k dere yo'se'f dis mawnin'; I ain't nevah touch dat pitchfo'k." Unc' Zenas's voice was low and even.
I car'ied water to Marse Bob's sto' close by an' he would allus give me candy by de double han'full, an' as many juice harps as I wanted. De bes' thing I ever did eat was dat candy. Marster was good to his only stray nigger. All de niggers had a sight of good things to eat from dat garden an' smoke house.
But finally I was talking to an old, old man who runs the drug-store on the corner of Main and Sixth streets there. I'd recognized him through the window and gone inside and shaken hands; and I asked him: "'Do you remember John Marcey? "'Marcey Marcey? he repeated. 'Oh, yes. Old Marse. Why, yes. Sure. And he kept nodding his head.
Dey did b'long to Marse Tom. I knows dat. "Bartley's used to be some place. My folks had a big hotel down on de river bank. Dey was a heap of stores right on de bank, too. De river done wash' em all 'way now. Dey aint nothin' lef'. But Lawdy! When I was a kid de boats used to come a-sailin' up de river 'bout once a week an' I used to know de names o' all de big ones.
"Ain't Marse Robert comin' doun to his coffee, M'am?" "Not yet, Ben. I couldn't persuade him." The mistress caught the effort of her faithful servant to help in his humble way and it touched her. She was making a firm resolution to regain her self-control when a distant cry was heard from the roadway. "Uncle Ben!" "What's dat?" the old man asked. "He's coming?" Mrs. Lee gasped. "I dunno, M'am.
Now, Marse Benson, w'at happen to yo' las' night am all in de co'se ob a lifetime, an' Ah hope you ain't got no bad feelin's. Yo' suttinly done learn somet'ing new in de way ob tricks. Good-bye, sab, an' mah compliments to yo', Marse Benson."
"Dats a fac, Jim," cried Uncle Tony, "I forgot 'bout de water." "Well, Jim," queried Mr. Woodward, "how do you account for it?" "Marse James," Uncle Jim sagely replied, "it 'pears to me dat somebody got under de groun' and dig de dirt out and de water mashed it down." "Jim," exclaimed Tony, "you am de biggist fool dat I ebber seed. How's anybody gwine tu git under de groun' to dig.
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