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"I'd like him to have Nicknack." "Then, if it is all right with Mr. Newton, well take the goat over a few days before we leave for the West," said Mr. Martin. "Bob will have a chance to get used to Nicknack, and Nicknack to him, before we go away." "Nicknack not come wif us?" asked Trouble, not quite understanding what the talk was about.
"You ain't goin' to send him away!" he cried. "He's goin' to stay here wif me. He's goin' to sleep wif me. Hear, Aunt Cindy?" Still protesting, he was following her through the hall, out on the high-columned front porch, and around the house toward the barn. "Hit won't do, honey," she was saying over and over. "You listen to yo' mammy now, you 'pen' on her. He ain't de chile for you to play wid.
"Yes maam, chile, Ise a Baptis and sho proud ob it. Praise de Lord and go to Church, dat de onliest way to keep de debbil offen youh trail and den sometime he almos kotch up wif you.
"I 've changed allegiance, that's all, Broussard. It's money which makes the mare go with all of us, eh? The Captain turned me loose last night." "You wif us? You go volunter?" "Well, something like that. I 'm to be drill-master, or general, for those tattered battalions down in the jungles. What do you think of the job?" He shrugged his shoulders, and then grinned.
"Mistah Dane is a puffect gen'l'man," she continued. "He's not one bit stuck up, an' he's got manners, too. Why, he touches his cap to dis ol' woman, an' if dat ain't a sign of a gen'leman, den I'd like to know what is. I ain't afraid to trust Missie Jean wif a man like dat." "But suppose he should take Jean away?" the Colonel queried. "Doan yo' worry 'bout dat, Cun'l.
Leigh, who had been pleased with all of them, turned to her guardian, saying gravely: "Uncle Jim, can I go to school wif Thaine?" "You must meet that question every day now, Jim," Asher said. "Why not answer it and be rid of it?" "How can I answer it?" Jim queried. "Virgie, help us with this educational problem of the State," Asher turned to his wife.
"Wantsh my shoesh made all nigger wif a bottle-bwush, too," said Toddie. I looked appealingly at Budge, who answered: "He means he wants his shoes blacked, with the polish that's in a bottle, an' you rub it on with a brush." "An' I wantsh a thath on," continued Toddie. "Sash, he means," said Budge. "He's awful proud." "An' Ize doin' to wear my takker-hat," said Toddie. "An' my wed djuvs."
It was now but a sunken spot covered with a tangle of vines and weeds. The slab was still there, but it was prone on the ground, face downwards, and was much worn and defaced. Drane copied in his note-book all of the inscription that was legible: Ma-y Be e wif- -f di-d h e o- w-y -o K t k- Ma-ch 9 1-82 -ged 22
"We gwine fin' who he ma an' pa is, honey, an' sen' him home," was her verdict. "You ain't goin' to send him home!" cried Tommy, his face suddenly crimson. "He ain't got no home. You ain't goin' to send him anywhere. He's goin' to stay here wif me. He ain't had anything to eat but blackberries. He's hungry as" the phrase was almost out, but he throttled it "He's hungry!"
An' now de carstle done blowed down an' in a twinklin' of de eye, most fo' dis ole nigger could tun 'round, here is a sho nuf house whar de carstle stood an' my lil baby chile is mistress here wif a dough tray an' bis'it board er her own, an' now," and here Aunt Mary paused to give one of her inimitable chuckles, "she don' have ter stretch up none ter reach de table but has to ben' over right smart in de tother d'rection."
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