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Dar, it done struck five bells dat mean ten-thirty, unerstan' an' you's gotter git half-a-dozen ob yo' bob-tailed nags ready fo' de ridin' lessons yo' tells me yo' gives de yo'ng ladies at six bells, dat's eleben o'clock, Sattidy mawnin's. I's pintedly cur'us fer ter see dem lessons, I is.
For days Mammy had been "as res'less an' onsettled as a yo'ng tuckey long 'bout Thanksgivin' time," as she expressed it, and had found it difficult to settle down to her ordinary routine of work during the preceding two weeks. She prowled about the house and the premises "fer all de 'roun worl' like yo' huntin' speerits," declared Aunt Cynthia, the cook.
You know dat I know dat yo' po' measly sky-colored milk sours up into mighty fine clabber ter feed yo'ng tukkeys wid you an' me, we knows dat, don't we? Hyah! Dar, now, we done turned de joke on all you yaller-creamers ain't we, Lady? Lordy! I wonder fo' gracious ef Lady nod her head to me accidental! Is you 'spondin' ter me, Lady?
Could it be that he did not wish even his lackeys to know he play with the yo'ng Frenchman who Meestaire Nash does not like in the pomp-room? Monsieur is unfortunate to have come on foot and alone to my apartment." The Duke's mouth foamed over with chaotic revilement. His captor smiled brightly, and made a slight gesture, as one who brushes aside a boisterous insect.
Befo' he's done been in dis hyre stable a week he gwine ter be eatin' outer ma hand," and Apache verified the statement by becoming Jefferson's abject slave before four days had passed, and Beverly basked in reflected glory, for was she not Apache's "Yo'ng Mist'ess?"
His hairy old breast showed through the night-shirt, which gaped apart; the stump of his left arm lay upon the book to keep it open. "Ah, my tear yo'ng friendt! Passil! Marge! Iss it you?" he called out, joyously, the next moment. "Why, are you sick, Lindau?" March anxiously scanned his face in taking his hand. Lindau laughed. "No; I'm all righdt. Only a lidtle lazy, and a lidtle eggonomigal.
It's dese yo'ng ladies I has ter bat my eyes at; an' dey shore do keep me busy sometimes. Now what I tell you?
I lak go to bed after big hunt." "You shouldn't talk so much," said Sam. "It tires you." "Let me talk," returned Musq'oosis, smiling still. "I soon done talkin'. I lak tell yo'ng man all an old man know. But not moch good, I guess. Yo'ng man got learn same lak his fat'er." The old man murmured on out of his store of wisdom. Sometimes he appeared to doze, but always he kept hold of Sam's hand.
She is very faithful and forgiving and sweet; she would be the same, I think, if I were even a lackey. But I? I was a dolt, a little unsensible brute; I did not value such thing' then; I was too yo'ng, las' June. So I say to my cousin, 'No, I make my own choosing! 'Little fool, he answer, 'she is the one for you.
"You've got sense," he said. Musq'oosis shrugged philosophically. "I not the same lak ot'er men. I got crooked back, weak legs. I got work sittin' down. So my head is busy." He smoked with a reminiscent look. "When I yo'ng I feel moch bad for cause I got crooked back. But when I old I think there is good in it. A strong man is lak a moose. Wa! So big and swift and 'an'some.
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