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Updated: June 3, 2025
Dey said de Linkum sogers was comin' dat away, but dey wouldn't be 'long afore de mawnin', an' dey was a-gwine to whip dem. All was light talk an' larfin' an' jingle ob sabres. De house was nebber so waked up afo'. De young ladies was high-strung an' beliebed dat one ob our sogers could whip ten Linkum men.
"Only it startled me to hear you say so. You did entirely right to defend yourself and Nimbus. You should not let that trouble you for a moment." "No, Miss Mollie, but don't yer know dat de Ku Kluckers ain't a-gwine ter fergit it?" "Heavens!" said the Yankee girl, springing up from her chair in uncontrollable excitement. "You don't think they would hurt you a woman?"
"I am so glad we are going," said Rebecca, as they galloped along the road through the woods. "Mother was good to let us go." "I am s'prised at the missus," the negro said, shaking his head. "Sumfin am gwine to happen now fur sure, sumfin am gwine to happen." "Why?" asked Robert. "Misse neber gwine to dem people less dar be sumfin for a-gwine ter happen."
Their faces were white and their hands were clenched under the sudden stress, their breath came fast. The older woman was the first to speak. "What in the worl' ken you do, Cove Mills, ole an' puny as you is, an' got the rheumatiz all the time, too?" "I ken pint a gun," said the old man, doggedly, "an' I'm a-gwine."
Jinny, in recalling that journey and in dilating on the wonders of her experience abroad, by which she invariably struck awe into the souls of Aunt Sheba and Iss, would roll up her eyes, and turn outward the palms of her hands, as she exclaimed, "Good Lor', you niggers, how I make you 'prehen' Mas'r Graham's goin's on from de night he sez, sez he ter me, 'Pack up, Jinny; we'se a-gwine straight home. Iss 'clares dat Mas'r Graham's a ter'ble soger wid his long, straight sword and pistol, an' dat he's laid out more 'Federates dan he can shake a stick at.
The smoke o' it ud choke a skunk out o' a persimmon log. I tell 'ee, young 'un, we'll eyther be smoked out or smothered whur we are; an' this child hain't fit Injun for thirty yeern or better, to go under that a way. When it gets to its wurst I'm a-gwine to make a rush. That's what I'm a-gwine ter do, young fellur." "But how?" I asked, hurriedly; "how shall we act then?" "How?
He gave a quick look around to see if the door behind him was so securely shut that he could not be overheard by the Rebels inside the car, his dull, stolid face lighted up as a negro's always does in the excitement of doing something cunning, and he said in a loud whisper: "Dey's a-gwine to take you to Wilmington ef dey kin get you dar!" "Can get us there!" said I in astonishment.
But it ain't got no pint. Ef some of you boys has got a knife, ye kin put a pint to it." Uncle Braddock dived into the recesses of his dressing-gown, and produced a great jack-knife, with a crooked iron blade and a hickory handle. "Look a-dar!" cried John William Webster. "Uncle Braddock's a-gwine ter chop de pencil up fur kindlin'-wood."
I'm a-gwine ter gi' you a frailin' dat I boun' you won't forgit. "Brer Wolf make like he gwine ter hit de creetur, en den " Here Uncle Remus paused and looked all around the room and up at the rafters. When he began again his voice was very solemn.
Ef he's ter be s'pended fer a snorin' sleep, I oughter be s'pended fer a dozin' sleep, fer I was a-dozin'; an' I feels it in my bones dat we bofe oughter be s'pended, an' I is, no matter wot you does wid Mr. Buggone. Now, Tobe, you hab had you'se say, an' I'se a-gwine to hab mine. You'se got a heap ob zeal.
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