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"Me do 'tempt su'thin'. But missie knows, de Sabbat' be de only day de people hab, and dey tink mostly of oder tings." "And there is no church for you all to go to?" "No, missis; no church." There was a sad tone in this answer. I did not know how to go on. I turned to something else. "Uncle Darry, I don't think your home looks very comfortable." Darry almost laughed at that.
"I am Jean Bènard. I come up zee lak' an' hear shots an' I see my cabin blaze like hell. I tink somethin' ver' badly wrong an' I turn to zee woods. Den I see you rush out an' I hear you shoot as you run. I see dat big man struggle with you, I see him keeled by anoder who go down, aussi, and when zee man with zee ax mak' for you I begin to shoot.
"Dat's jes 'zackly what I do mean, Cousin Nimbus no mistake 'bout dat," answered Berry, bowing towards Nimbus with a great show of mock politeness. "What else did yer tink Berry mean, hey? Didn't my words 'spress demselves cl'ar? Yer know, cousin, dat I'se not one ob de fightin' kine. Nebber hed but one fight in my life, an' den dar wuz jes de wuss whipped nigger you ebber seed.
Ef dose slave-hunters can't find people in de swamps what chance you tink dose soldiers have? None at all! Dey haven't got no reward before dere eyes, and dey won't want to be going in ober dere shoes into the mud and dirting dere uniforms. No fear ob dem, sah. Dey make as much noise when dey march in de wood as a drove ob pigs. You can hear dem a quarter ob a mile away."
There was the sharp, resounding report of the rifle, followed on the instant by the wild cry of mortal pain, and then all became like the tomb itself. It was singular that the first spark of hope was kindled by the words of the colored servant, Dinah. "What makes you tink de boy am dead?" she asked, a moment after the woful words of her mistress. "Didn't you hear him cry out just now?"
"My child," those wonderful fingers seized her own, and clasped them tightly, "you have great promise, mind you, you know only a leedle now, and you must work work work." He brought it out so sharply, that the last word was fairly shrill. "But I tink you will," he added kindly, dropping his tone. Then he laid her fingers gently in her lap.
"Any pusson could have guessed dat ar," put in Victoria, in an irritated way; "yer needn't make sich a mysteriousness." "I shall make a mysteriousness or shall luff it alone, jis' as I tink best," retorted Clo, "so yer needn't go a meddlin' wid my dumplin', Miss Vic, 'cause yer'll git yer fingers burnt if yer does."
Who wouldn't be his nigger not his slave He don't hab no slaves but his chile; and 'ef his chile, den his heir, de heir ob God, and de joint heir wid Christ. O my chil'ren! tink of dat! de heir ob de Lord ob all de earth and all de sky! What white man kin be more'n dat? 'Don't none ob you say you'm too wicked to be His chile; 'ca'se you an't.
See de grand bird how he wheel right about face up to de sun, and hear de moosic ob de merry little fellow! "Liberty, liberty, Berry nice to be free! Bob-o-link where he please, Fly in de apple trees, O, 'tis de Freedom note Guggle sweet in him troat! Jink-a-jink, jink-a-jink, Winky wink, winky wink, Ony tink, ony tink, How happy, Bob-o-link! Sweet! Sweet!
An' now heem terreeble red in ze face, an' so hot, an' speak fonny. An' heem don' want eat noding, noding at all. So I know mademoiselle she help fix heem leetle girl, de oder day, an' me tink maybe she tell me what I do. All de oder womans dey know noding at all, an' I hear Docteur say oder day zey all big fool. Please you come, mademoiselle."
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