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I doesn't fergit him any mo'n you does. How kin I, when I done loved him much ez I did you? Wuzn't I goin' to come 'long an' live wif you two, an' take keer o' you, same's I did to the old place? I was a-lookin' to ther time when you an' Mas' Henry wuz a-goin' ter be mah'ied.
This is what "Miss Sally" heard: "Bimeby, one day, atter Brer Fox bin doin' all dat he could fer ter ketch Brer Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit bein doin' all he could fer ter keep 'im fum it, Brer Fox say to hisse'f dat he'd put up a game on Brer Rabbit, en he ain't mo'n got de wuds out'n his mouf twel Brer Rabbit came a lopin' up de big road, lookin' des ez plump, en ez fat, en ez sassy ez a Moggin hoss in a barley-patch.
"He ain' goin' back," he said. "'Ain' nobody kin make 'at dog go back. I 'ain' had him mo'n two weeks, but I don' b'lieve Pres'dent United States kin make 'at dog go back! I show you." And, wheeling suddenly, he made ferocious gestures, shouting. "G'on back, dog!"
This is the seventh time they've licked us, for a fact!" Old Man Curry began to chuckle, and the jockey eyed him curiously. "You sutny enjoy it mo'n I do, boss," said he. "That's because you don't read Solomon," replied the owner. "Listen: 'A just man falleth seven times and riseth up again. Mose, we're due to rise up and smite these Philistines." "Huh! Why not smite some 'em Irish boys first?
"Hit kilt all Miss Chris' hop vines las' year, en it'll kill all ez ain't under kiver ter-night. Hit seems ter sort er lay holt er yo' chist en clean grip hit." "You ain' never had no chist, nohow," remarked Delphy disdainfully. "Hit don't take mo'n er spit er fros' ter freeze thoo you. You de coldest innered somebody I ever lay eyes on.
'Twan' mo'n a minit, de sorrel come gallupin' back wid his mane flyin', an' de rein hangin' down on one side to his knee. 'Dyar! says I, 'fo' Gord! I 'specks dey done kill Marse Chan, an' I promised to tek care on him.
Yer may ax, but axin' ain't findin' out den; an', mo'n dat, ef'n I'm got ter be bothered wid axin' uv questions, den I ain't gwine obstruck yer, dat's all." The children begged his pardon, and promised not to interrupt again, and Daddy Jake continued his story.
You neveh seed me mad, did you? Well, when you see Cawnelius Leggett mad you wants to run an' hide. He wou'n't hu't a chile no mo'n he'd hu't a chicken, but ef dere's a man in de way jis' on'y in de way an' specially a white man Lawd! he betteh teck a tree!"
"I ain' done straighten 'em out yit, Unk Ish," he returned slowly. "'Pears like soon es I done add 'em all up anur done come, an' I has ter kac'late f'om de bottom agin. I ain' got no head fer figgers, nohow. Betsey, she lays dat dar's ten uv 'em, but ter save my soul I can't mek out mo'n eight."
Phoebe went conscientiously over the uncluttered spaces, and even reached the nose of her broom between pots and ovens, but only coarse trash gathered before the broom all the rest went through the cracks. Mammy said Phoebe's news could be believed. "De gal don't know no mo'n ter tell dest whut she done heard."
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