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'Do you take me for a blind man, asked Martin, somewhat impatiently, 'that you think it necessary to tell me that, when his face is the blackest that ever was seen? 'No, no; when I say a man of colour, returned Mark, 'I mean that he's been one of them as there's picters of in the shops.
He shoved one in my outside pocket over to Pondville when I warn't lookin', the day 'fore I held up this man Bowditch, and went and told the fellers 'round the tavern that I had it. They come and pulled it out and had the laugh on me, and then he began to talk and said he'd write to Jennetta and send her one o' the picters by mail and tell her he'd got it out o' my coat, and he did.
Comin' home I passed a buildin' down here a ways on the avenue where there were picter papers pasted all over the windows; the picters were all about healin' folks, heaps and heaps in great theaters, a nice white-haired old preacher doin' the healin'. While I was lookin' at the picters, a door opened and a young feller came along and helped 'em carry in a cripple in his chair.
You see I've got a cousin what reads a sight, and one day he says to me, 'Nat, in a book I see somethin' about a set of spoons with a 'postle's head on each of 'em; you make some and they'll sell, I bet. So I got gramper's Bible, found the picters of the 'postles, and worked and worked till I got the faces good; and now it's fun, for they do sell, and I'm savin' up a lot.
"Now, that's good. He's finished up five on 'em." "Five what?" "Picters," responded Uncle William, spelling it out slowly. "There's one of my house," lofty pride held the voice, "and one of the cove down below, and two up by the end of old Bodet place, and one on the hill, this side of your place. Now, that's quite a nice lot, ain't it?" "What's he going to do with 'em," asked Andy.
It's a mighty perty woman washin' with short sleeves," said Uncle Billy. "That's the comfort of them picters, you kin always get somethin' new, and it adds thickness to the wall." Uncle Jim went back to the cards in silence. After a moment he rose again, and hung his overcoat against the door. "Wind's comin' in," he said briefly.
An' young Marse Sidney, dat's you'se fader, Missy, and young Marse Hugh, dat's you'se fader, Missy Ella, dey was han'som as picters an' dey drink toasts ter Missy Mary an' compliment her an' she'd blush like a red rose; an' wen dey all 'bout ter march away Missy Mary kiss Marse Hugh jes as ef he her own broder. Lor, Lor, how it all come back ter me!
'I never heerd, mind you, or read of in story-books, nor see in picters, any angel in tights and gaiters not even in spectacles, as I remember, though that may ha' been done for anythin' I know to the contrairey but mark my vords, Job Trotter, he's a reg'lar thoroughbred angel for all that; and let me see the man as wenturs to tell me he knows a better vun. With this defiance, Mr.
"Maude," remarked the phenomenon briefly. This statement she delivered in that whining tone which the extremely self-conscious infant imagines to indicate playful childishness. She approached. "D' you want t' see my picters?" she whimpered confidingly. Bennington expressed his delight.
"Fust-off, Sis didn't look jes' nat'ral, spite of all the picters she's sent us; but that was her long-tailed dress, mebbe.
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