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I'se gib yer de compliment ob s'lecting yer ter shar' my fine if yer'll lemme put dis ring on yer degaged finger." "Yer doan say nuffin 'bout lub in dis yer 'rangement," Suky simpered, sidling up to him. "Oh, dat kind ob sent'ment 'll do fer common niggahs," Jeff explained with dignity. "I'se hurd my missus talk 'bout 'liances 'twixt people of quality. Ki!
"Yes maam, chile, some ob de niggahs dey run off from Ole Marse Louis, but de alway come back bout stahved, hee, hee, hee, an do dey eat, an Ole Marse, he alway take em back an give em plenty eatins. Yes maam, he alway good to us and he suah give us niggahs plenty eatins all de time.
"Widout dem mules an' niggahs an' bar'ls dah wouldn't be 'nough water in dis town to wet a chaw tobacky." A winding macadamized road leads up the river bank to the main street running parallel with it. There is a short cut by a rickety stairway, but, as some steep climbing has to be done before reaching the lower step, it is seldom used.
The old man passed to the third inevitable proposition: "What air you'uns puttin' ouah niggahs in the field to fight we'uns foh?" Then the whole car-load shouted back at him at once: "What are you'uns putting blood-hounds on our trails to hunt us down, for?" Myself "Well, we warmed it to you pretty lively until you caught us.
Disdaining to notice this return in kind, the old man passed on to the next stage: "What are you'uns takin' ouah niggahs away from us foh?"
Oh Miss Jinny, you an' Miss Lill an' Mammy Easter an' Susan's gwine with Jackson, an' de othah niggahs can walk. Ephum an' me'll jes' put up de shutters an' load de Colonel's gun." By this time the room was filled with excited negroes, some crying, and some laughing hysterically.
"Yah, sah; I'se had er confab wid 'em," remarked the negro, seating himself on the top step of the veranda, and mopping his coal-black face with a red cotton handkerchief; "an' hit do beat all. Niggahs is mos'ly eejits, spacially w'en yo' wants 'em to hab some sense."
CHORUS Den lay down de shubel an' de hoe, Den hang up de fiddle an' de bow; For dere's no more hard work for poor Uncle Ned He's gone whar de good niggahs go. His fingers war long, like de cane in de brake, And his eyes war too dim for to see; He had no teeth to eat de corn cake, So he had to let de corn cake be. His legs were so bowed dat he couldn't lie still. An' he had no nails on his toes;
"I suppose you are keeper of the prison," commented Josephine bitterly. "Dis ain't no prisum, Ma'am, I'se bin heah a long time 'mong dese triflin' niggahs. Dis ain't no prisum but God knows, Ma'am, we needs a lady heah to run things. Is you come foh dat?" "No, no," said Josephine. "I'm just I'm just I'm going away as soon as I can." "Sho, now! Huc'cum you heah, Ma'am?" "It was a mistake."
They went aroun' whippin' niggahs. They'd get young girls and strip 'em sta'k naked, and put 'em across barrels, and whip 'em till the blood run out of 'em, and then they would put salt in the raw pahts. And ah seen it, and it was as bloody aroun' em as if they'd stuck hogs. "I sho' is glad I ain't no slave no moah. Ah thank God that ah lived to pas the yeahs until the day of 1937.
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