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"Let's look at it." "There it is. Look there, now. Don't it say full moon on the 20th? and this yer's only the 9th, and yet it's full moon now." "That's so; and Er er Less see Er-er Mr. Bones, do you know what year this almanac is for?" "Why, 1876, of course." "No, it isn't; it's for 1866. It's ten years old." "Oh no! 1866! Well, now, it is. I declare! 1866! Why, merciful Moses!
De time is right now, en dish yer's de place Let de sun er salvashun shine squar' in yo' face; Fight de battles er de Lord, fight soon en fight late, En you'll allers fine a latch ter de golden gate. No use fer ter wait twel termorrer, De sun musn't set on yo' sorrer Sin's ez sharp ez a bamboo-brier, Ax de Lord fer ter fetch you up higher! OH, de worril is roun' en de worril is wide Lord!
He sot up in de loft of his ole sto' readin' de Bible upside down to git de debbil's frenship. De debbil come in one night, and says to ole Meshach: 'Yer's my hat! Go, take it, honey, and measure land wid it, and all de land you measure is yo's, honey! An' Meshach's measured mos' all dis county in. Jedge Custis's land is de last."
Colonel Starbottle deftly ran over the various popular epithets which a generous public sentiment might accept as reasonable provocation for an assault. But John did not recognize them. "And this yer's the cattle," said the Colonel, with some severity, "that some thinks oughter be allowed to testify ag'in' a White Man! Git you heathen!" Still the quarrel remained inexplicable.
Why, when I popped into that thar room, and saw that lady all gold, furbelows, and spangles at twelve o'clock at night, sittin' in that cheer and you a-cuttin' her h'r and swabbin' her head o' blood, and kinder prospectin' for 'indications, so to speak, and doin' it so kam and indifferent like, I sez to myself, 'Rube, Rube, sez I, 'this yer's life! city life!
She could never bear it that he should be flogged after all she had done to save him from the shame. She could never live through it the cowhiding of her hero by the detested overseer. Yes, the time had come: she must tell Alston. She went over to where he had begun a new row. "Yer don't b'lieve the tale I tole yistiddy, Als'on: yer's feared I'll steal yer cotton ter-day," she said.
Yer do me proud, both on yer," said Berry, bowing and scraping again, making a ball of his old hat, sidling restlessly back and forth, and displaying all the limpsy litheness of his figure, in his embarrassed attempts to show his enjoyment. "'Pears like yer's trabblin' in company," he added, with a glance at Mollie's hand resting on Hesden's arm.
"If they were white men, p'rhaps," returned his companion, contemptuously, "but this yer's a case of Injin agen Injin, ez the men are Mexican half-breeds just as Bob's a half Cherokee. The sooner that kind o' cross cattle exterminate each other the better it'll be for the country. It takes a white man like Johnson to set 'em by the ears." A silence followed.
"Mister Wobbles, yer's prettin' on high de airs ter-night," Suky remarked, with an interrogation point in her voice. "Here's ter de health ob Mrs. Wobbles," he answered, lifting the cider to his lips. "I'se no 'jections ter dat. Who is she ter be?" replied Suky, very innocently. "It's not my 'tention ter go furder and far' wuss. Dis am a case wha de presen' company am not 'cepted."
"Marse George hev got de swelled foot," he said in answer to a question, "an' he ain' tech his julep sence de day befo' yestiddy. Dis yer's fur you," he added, looking at the bunch in his hand. "You're a trump, Cæsar!" exclaimed Nicholas as he ascended the steps and entered the wide hall, through which a light breeze was blowing.
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