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Look mighty cu'us dat some folks can't git useter yuther folks w'at got Fergiuny ways, but dat's Miss F'raishy up en down. Dat's her, sho! Ole Miss en ole Marster dey had Ferginny ways, en Miss F'raishy she wouldn't 'a staid in a ten-acre fiel' wid urn dat she wouldn't. Folks wa't got Ferginny ways, Miss F'raishy she call um big-bugs, en she git hostile w'en she year der name call.
I ain't bin useter no cunjun myse'f, but I bin livin' long nuff fer ter know w'en you meets up wid a big black cat in de middle er de road, wid yaller eyeballs, dar's yo' witch fresh fum de Ole Boy.
I useter drive up de cows en mah feet would be so cole en mah toes cracked open en bleedin', en I'd be cryin' 'til I got almos' ter de house den I'd wipe mah eyes on de bottom ob mah dress, so de Marster wouldin' know dat I had bin cryin'. He'd say, "Frankie ain't you cryin'?" I'd say, "No suh." "Ez you cole?" "Yes, sir." He would say kum on en warm.
I was more 'n twenty-one year old, a man growed, 'fore I foun' out why 't was that away. Father an' mother was Christian folks, good out-an'-out Calv'nist Baptists from over East'n way. They fetched me up right, made me go to meetin' an' read a chapter every Sunday, an' say a hymn Sat'day night a'ter washin'; an' I useter say my prayers mos' nights. I wa'n't a bad boy as boys go.
Dad useter take the hide off'n me and Bob for lyin'; an' then he'd stand an' palaver folks that he jest couldn't scurce abide, fur I heard him say so. That's lyin', too ain't it?" "I, I don't believe it is right to criticize our parents," returned Nan, dodging the sharp girl's question. "Mebbe yourn don't need criticizin'," responded Margaret, bluntly. "My dad ain't no angel, you kin bet."
You know, one o' them big cakes from the ice fact'ry fell on him. . . . I tell Barzillai the city folks are a godsend to us Cape Codders in summer time, now that sea-goin' don't seem so pop'lar with the men as it useter be." "I dunno. Some of these city folks don't seem to be sent by the Lord, but by the other feller!" was the grim rejoinder.
Josh useter whip her till he was blue in the face, an' she wouldn't budge. Only made her more sot and stubborner....
Ball stroked his stained beard. "I useter," he said, reminiscently, "afore I was merried." Joe whistled idly, still watching for Hepsey. "Young feller," said Mr. Ball, again, "there's a great deal of merryin' and givin' in merriage in this here settlement, ain't there?" "Not so much as there might be." "Say, was your mother's name Elmiry Peavey?" "Yes sir," Joe answered, much surprised.
Soapy turned away to stare at the tomato cans again. "Meanin'?" he enquired at last, hoarser than before. "That once upon a time it belonged to her." "Sport," said Soapy after an interval, still staring at the pyramid of cans, "I useter know her once, an' I've jest nacherally took a fancy t' that ring; if fifty dollars'll buy it, they're yours right now."
"They tell me it's been a good year for business in the Board, Colonel." "Not over-good, Dennie. The office aint what it was once. It useter be that ye cud make a nate pile in wan terrum, but now wid the assessmints an' the price of gettin' there, yer lucky if ye come out aven." "The trouble is that you fool away your money, Colonel. You ought not to hand over to every bummer that comes along.
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