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"Read this, then," added the doctor, handing him a yellow paper bag he picked up in the street, on which was a shopkeeper's advertisement. "I can read some of it," replied Paul; and the reader may help him. In de Mooriaan. Deze en meer andere soorten van TABAK, SNUIF, SIGAREN, KOFFIJ, THEE ENZ zijn te bekomen bij D. B. SCHRETLEN, Zandstraat, Wijk 5, No. 447, ROTTERDAM.
"I gin 'im dem," said Uncle Remus, pointing to Mrs. Huntingdon, "en I gin 'im deze" holding up his own brawny arms. "En ef dem ain't nuff fer enny man den I done los' de way." A Jonesboro negro, while waiting for the train to go out, met up with Uncle Remus. After the usual "time of day" had been passed between the two, the former inquired about an acquaintance. "How's Jeems Rober'son?" he asked.
De ingine o' Glory's kyar would o' gi'en out o' water long 'fo' now in deze heah summer dry-drouths if 'twarn't fur de tears o' sinners, an' de grief-stricken an' de heavy-hearted! I tell yer Glory's train stops ter teck in water at de mo'ner's bench eve'y day! So don't be afeerd to weep. But bring on de wheels!" He paused here and looked searchingly about him. There was no response.
When we git dar, maybe well go on twel we gits ter Massasip." "Is you got enny folks out dar?" inquired Uncle Remus. "None dat I knows un." "An' you er takin' dis 'oman an' deze chillun out dar whar dey dunno nobody? Whar's yo' perwisions?" eying a chest with a rope around it. "Dem's our bedcloze," the old negro explained, noticing the glance of Uncle Remus.
I bin livin' yer more'n seventy year, an' I year talk er niggers seein' ghos'es all times er night an' all times er day, but I ain't never seed none yit; an' deze yer flags an' Jacob's lathers, I ain't seed dem, nudder." "Dey er dar, Brer Remus." "Hit's des like I tell you, Brer Ab.
It's bad enough when some o' deze heah low-down po'-white-trash town-boys hollers 'rats' at me let alone my own white chillen what I done toted in my arms! Lemme go home an' try ter forgit dis insult ole marster's chile insulted me wid!"
Brer Coon, he wuz one er deze yer natchul pacers, en he racked 'long same ez Mars John's bay pony, en Brer Possum he went in a han'-gallup; en dey got over heap er groun, mon. Brer Possum, he got his belly full er 'simmons, en Brer Coon, he scoop up a 'bunnunce er frogs en tadpoles. Dey amble long, dey did, des ez sociable ez a basket er kittens, twel bimeby dey hear Mr.
Well, dey ain't no tellin' deze days whar a nigger's gwineter lan'." "Yes," responded Charley, straightening himself up and speaking in a dignified tone, "yes, I'm fixin' to do better. I'm preparin' fer to shake worldliness. I'm done quit so'shatin' wid deze w'ite town boys. Dey've been a goin' back on me too rapidly here lately, an' now I'm a goin' back on dem."
These relations were pretty soon established, to the mutual satisfaction of the parties most interested, and the old man continued his remarks, but this time not at random: "W'en I see deze yer swell-head folks like dat 'oman w'at come en tell yo' ma 'bout you chunkin' at her chilluns, w'ich yo' ma make Mars John strop you, hit make my mine run back to ole Brer B'ar.
"An' deze yo'ng men at de winders, I say, ef de wheels in yo' pockets come f'om matchin' nickels on de roadside, or kyard-playin', or maybe drivin' home de wrong pig. This secured the window crowds intact, and now Jordan turned to the congregation within. "An' now, dear beloved." He lowered his voice. "For sech as I done specified, let us pray!"
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