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Updated: May 6, 2025
She's ourn we found 'er, Job an' me seen 'er out in th' race, us did, floatin' s' pretty, an' folleyed 'er, us did, 'til she came ashore. She b'longs t' us, me lord, as Job'll swear to diskiver a corp' means money, an' corpses, 'specially sich pretty 'uns, don't come often enough " "Pah!" cried my uncle. "There is a hurdle over yonder, fetch it you!"
"Well, I sh'd jes' reckon I is better off, suh, dan dem low-down free niggers, suh! Ef anybody ax 'em who dey b'long ter, dey has ter say nobody, er e'se lie erbout it. Anybody ax me who I b'longs ter, I ain' got no 'casion ter be shame' ter tell 'em, no, suh, 'deed I ain', suh!" The colonel was beaming. This was true gratitude, and his feudal heart thrilled at such appreciative homage.
And the Idiot, seeing, rose and sidled towards him, and said: "Poor Grah want pipe bubble bubble." Then a light of childish cunning came into his eyes, and he touched the bullets blunderingly, and continued: "Plenty, plenty b'longs Grah give poor Grah pipe plenty, plenty, give you these." And Pretty Pierre after a moment replied: "So that's it, Grah? you've got bullets stowed away?
"Five hundred dollars in gol'!" Ben gasped. Sam drew the shining yellow eagles from the bag in his pocket and jingled them before the old man's eyes. "Dar it is." Ben touched it reverently. "Praise God fer de good folks He give us." "I'se er proud nigger, I is. I'se sorry fur dem dat b'longs to po' folks." Ben looked at him benignly. "Don't you be too proud, boy. You'se powerful young and foolish.
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.
"Ye see, Roop," he continued, drawing him aside with an air of comfortable mystery, "this yer biz'ness b'longs to the private and confidential branch of the office. From informashun we've received" "WE?" interrupted Rupert.
'Course I could smoke 'em out but somehow I hates ter make the po' things homeless an' I reckon they's got a notion that the hollow place in the back er this here ca'ige b'longs ter them an' the knot hole they done bored is the front do'. When me'n Miss Ann has ter drive on I jes' sticks a cawn cob in the hole an' the bees trabels with us. Sometimes their buzzin' air kinder comp'ny ter me.
"Haw! haw! haw!" and the General shook his fat sides with immoderate laughter. "Why, pilgrim-tender-fut, this 'ere hundred an' twenty-six pounds o' feminine gender b'longs to me ter yours, truly, Walsingham Nix an' I have a parfec' indervidual right ter hug an' kiss her as much as I please, wi'out brookin' enny interference frum you.
I wouldn't say nothin' 'bout it to yer maw, 'f I was you; it'll only rile her up." Melissa looked at the field in a quiet, dispassionate way. "The land's his'n, ain't it, Lysander?" she asked. "Oh, yes, the land's his'n, an' a good part o' the cañon, too, all but a little that b'longs to yer maw. But the hull thing used to be hern; quite a spell back, though."
"Then then," he stuttered, forcing the words from a throat sanded by sudden dread, "then Chum rightly b'longs to this man?" "Quite so!" assented Marden, in some relief. "I am glad you grasp the point so readily. Mr. Gault has talked the matter over with me, and he is taking a remarkably broad and generous view of the case if I may say so.
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