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I ain' lay eyes on er dish er kebbage sence I lef dat ar patch on Hick'ry Hill, en all de blackeye peas I'se done seen is what I raise right dar behint dat do'. Es long es Gord A'mighty ondertecks ter feed you, He mought es well feed you ter yo' tase." "There are some eggs in the cupboard," said Eugenia seriously. "You must cook some for supper." Uncle Ish grunted.
She was a good-natured Irish girl, and she entered the room singing: "'Now, Rory, be aisy, don't tase me no more, 'Tis the " "Och, murther! Murther! There's a man under the bed, an' he grabbed me by me shoe, oh! oh!" Down-stairs she ran, screaming all the way, declaring that there was a man up-stairs, and calling for some one brave enough to "dhrive him out."
BLACK HELLEBORE. Root. L. The tase of Hellebore is acrid and bitter. Its acrimony, as Dr. Grew observes, is first felt on the tip of the tongue, and then spreads immediately to the middle, without being much perceived on the intermediate part: on chewing it for a few minutes, the tongue seems benumbed, and affected with a kind of paralytic stupor, as when burnt by eating any thing too hot.
"Dis yer coffee hit's done 'mos' bile away," he remarked gloomily. "En ef'n it don' tase like hit oughter tase, 'tain' no use ter tu'n up yo' nose, caze 'tain' de faul' er de coffee, ner de faul' er me nurr." "How are you, old man?" asked Bland, turning over in the shadow. "Who's there?" responded Dan, as he peered from the light into the obscurity. "All the mess except Welch, poor devil.
Cupid brought the kettle, grumbling. "I ain' never hyern tell er sich a mouf es ole Miss es got," he muttered. "I ain' sayin' nuttin' agin er stomick, case she ain' never let de stuff git down dat fur en de stomick hit ain' never tase it yit." "Oh, stop grumbling, Uncle Cupid," returned Betty, moving briskly about the room.
You des wrop er hank er yo' hyar roun' de hine foot, honey, en' w'en de night time done come, you teck'n hide it unner a rock in de big road. W'en de devil goes a-cotin' at de full er de moon en he been cotin' right stiddy roun' dese yer parts he gwine tase dat ar frawg foot a mile off." "A mile off?" repeated the child, stretching out her hands.
"Yes, Lawd, he gwine tase dat ar frawg foot a mile off, en w'en he tase hit, he gwine begin ter sniff en ter snuff. He gwine sniff en he gwine snuff, en he gwine sniff en he gwine snuff twel he run right spang agin de rock in de middle er de road. Den he gwine paw en paw twel he root de rock clean up." The little girl looked up eagerly. "An' my hair, Aunt Ailsey?"
"Yes," I said, wriggling under my clothes, and rubbing myself. "Oh! Quick! Back of my neck, Pomp, look. Biting." Pomp sprang to me in an instant. "I got um, Mass' George. Dah!" he cried, as he placed the vicious little insect between his teeth, and bit it in two. "You no bite young massa 'gain. How you like be bite, sah? Make you feel dicklus, eh? Oh! Ugh! Tiff! Tiff! Tiff! Oh, um do tase nasty."
It appears that this is the only paste they know anything about. After one eats tagliarini or ravioli one feels like paraphrasing the darkey and saying, "go way spaghetti, yo done los' yo tase." Then comes tortelini which, like ravioli, combines paste with meat and spinach.
I'se done been young, en I'se now ole, en I ain' never seed de devil stick his mouf in anybody's bizness 'fo' he's axed." She bent over and raked the ashes from her cake with a lightwood splinter. "Dis yer's gwine tase moughty flat-footed," she grumbled as she did so. "O Aunt Ailsey," wailed Betty in despair. The tears shone in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks.
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