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Updated: May 8, 2025
Returning to his chair and resuming his former attitude, he said in a milder tone: "I 'low you b'long to the lawyer-makin' class o' schoolmarsters; all the teachers we've had yit b'longed to one o' two kinds.
Ef I didn't b'lave ye ter be ez true ez steel ye shouldn't tech hit, fur hit b'longed ter the truest man in this livin' world." "Hit wuz her husband's," explained Fortner, as her lips met firmly, as if choking down bitter memories. "I'm givin' hit ter ye ter use ez he'd a-used hit ef he war a-livin'," she said, steadying her tones with a perceptible effort.
And these folks all b'longed to one person, that they called the Head Man. They was his folks, and nobody else's, and he had the whole say, and could do anything he wanted to. But he was real nice, and always done jest the best thing, yes, sir, the bestest thing, whatever folks might say against it. Well, I was tellin' ye about how these folks had diff'ent kind o' bundles on their backs.
I never did see any thing look so much like a sugar pig." It did Mr. Allen and aunt Madge a world of good to see the child so pleased. "Do you know," said she, eagerly, "who that piggy b'longs to?" "Why, to grandpa, I suppose." "O," said Prudy, very sadly, while the bright color died out of her cheeks at once, "I didn't know but it b'longed to grandma."
"Nate fund a trac' o' land a-layin' ter suit his mind what b'longed ter nobody but the State vacant land, ye see an' so he went ter the 'entry-taker, they calls him, an' gits it 'entered, an' the surveyor kem an' medjured it, an' then Nate got a grant fur it, an' now it air his'n. The Gov'nor o' the State hev sot his name ter that thar grant the Gov'nor o' Tennessee!" reiterated Tim pridefully.
You er mistook in de house." "Whose house is dis?" "It b'longs ter my husban', Mr. Smith, Primus Smith." "'Scuse me, but I knowed de house some years ago w'en I wuz here oncet on a visit, an' it b'longed ter a man name' Ben Davis." "Ben Davis Ben Davis? oh yes, I 'member now. Dat wuz de gen'man w'at wuz sent ter de penitenchy fer sump'n er nuther, sheep-stealin', I b'lieve.
Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin!
He paused again and no one offered a comment; so he resumed his statement: "I hain't told ye all of hit, but I reckon thet's enough. Thar warn't no witnesses ter holp me come cl'ar an' ther co'te over thar wouldn't vouchsafe me no justice.... Hit's jedge b'longed ter John Turk's kinfolks body an' soul ... so I come away."
She was nice an' sof'-goin'. Us was glad when she stayed on de plantation. "Nex' thing I knowed us all b'longed to Marse Withers. He was from de nawth an' he didn' have no wife. I knows a-plenty what I oughtn' tell to ladies. Twant de marsters whut was so mean. Twas dem po' white trash overseers an' agents. Dey was mean; dey was meaner dan bulldogs. Yes'm, wives made a big diffe'nce.
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