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I look mighty spindlin' an' puny now, don't I, boss?" inquired the old man, with great apparent earnestness. "Rather." "Well, you des oughter see me git my Affikin up. Dey useter call me er bad nigger long 'fo' de war, an hit looks like ter me dat I gits wuss an' wuss.
In her hand was a lath, and, even as Herman turned, it was again wielded, this time upon Verman. "Yes; you bettuh holler, 'Mammy!" she panted. "My goo'ness, if yo' pappy don' lam you to-night! Ain' you got no mo' sense 'an to let white boys 'suede you play you Affikin heathums? Whah you britches?" "Yonnuh Verman's," quavered Herman. "Whah y'own?"
I heard de trial was to come off to-morrow, and but for de rheumatiz, de keys would have been ready a week ago. You know, Mars' Emile, old Peter part Affikin, and what he can't do, no udder nigger need try. He, he, he!" "But where are you going?" interrupted Emile. "Well, Mars' Emile, der's a blockader lying off de Bar. I'se gwine to take you to it." Emile shuddered. "Nebber fear.
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