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Now who'd ha' thought o' that? Axially wantin' her own father! I'd run far enough out o' the way o' mine an' farther if he wur a-axin' arter me. Mat. Oh me! my side! Sus. It's hunger, poor dear! This won't do, Bill! I'm a shamed o' you, Bill! Exit. Mat. No, Susan, it's not hunger. It's the old story, Sue. Sus. Mattie! I never!
"Who is that gal?" he asked, slowly. It seemed somehow that he had known her a long while ago. A puzzled frown overlay his face, and the old miller laughed. "You a-axin' who she be, 'n' she a-axin who you be, 'n' both o' ye a-knowin' one 'nother sence ye was knee-high. Why, boy, hit's old Jasper's gal Marthy!" IN a flash of memory Rome saw the girl as vividly as when he last saw her years ago.
Ah! an' a nice time I 'ad of it, what wi' chamber-maids a-runnin' up an' down stairs to see the 'poor gentleman, an' everybody a-starin' at me, an' a-shakin' their 'eads, an' all a-axin' questions, one atop o' the other, till the doctor come. "Ow did this 'appen, me man? says 'e. 'A haccident! says I. 'A haccident? says the doctor, wi' a look in 'is eye as I didn't just like.
But, crossing the yard, he was met by Adam, who, chuckling still, paused to touch his hat. "To look at that theer 'all, sir, you wouldn't never know as there'd ever been any sale at all, not no'ow. Now the only question as worrits me, and as I'm a-axin' of myself constant is, what will Miss Anthea 'ave to say about it?" "Yes," said Bellew, "I wonder!"
Dar wan't no sense in it, no ways hits put, but Ise heered Marse Tom 'low hit wuz a civil war, en dat's what it wuz. When de Yankees come a-ridin' up en a-reinin' in dere hosses befo' de front po'ch, en Miss Chris come out a-smilin' en a-axin' howdy, en den dey stan' dar a-bowin' en a-scrapin', hit wuz des' es civil es ef dey'd come a-co'tin'. But Ole Miss wuz dead en buried, she wuz."
"Ay, that ye must!" chorused the others. "I only axed 'wot an' wheer." "Only axed, did ye?" repeated Joel scornfully, "Ah," nodded the other, "that's all." "But you're always a-axin', you are," said Joel gloomily. "W'ich I notice," retorted the man Tom, blowing into his tankard, "w'ich I notice as you ain't never over-fond o' answerin'." "Oh! I ain't, ain't I?"
De nex' day he come walkin' down to de slabe-pen, a-purtendin' to be a planter, and a-axin' de price ob de niggers. When dey tole him I was Vina's husband, he says, 'Why, he's too ole to be anybody's husband: I don't believe he's got a toof in his head. 'Yes I has, massa, says I: 'I'se got t'ree left, and can chaw hoecake powerful, but I don't crack no pecans in my mouf.
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