bodda

Updated: May 1, 2025

The woman, a big raw-boned field hand, set her burden awkwardly down on a table, and after staring comprehensively around, addressed the boy in a low rich voice, “Dar ain’t no mo’ call to bodda wid dat fiar, you Sampson; how come Miss T’rèse sont you lazy piece in yere tu buil’ fiar?” “Don’ know how come,” he replied, vanishing with an air of the utmost self-depreciation.

Kate Chopin - At Fault