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Updated: May 14, 2025
He's got de drefful temper; got it each side ob de house father and mother, bofe. I hope de good Massa above will make 'lowances for de young man got it bofe ways, he did." And he went thoughtfully back to his work, murmuring hopes and apologies for the man he loved, with all the forgiving unselfishness of a prayer in them. In some respects Plato was right.
Ole Miss Fox, she cut and cut twel down come de tree, but no Brer Rabbit dar. Den she lay de blame on Tobe, en she say she gwineter lash 'im, en Tobe, he put out en run, de ole 'oman atter 'im. Bimeby, he come up wid Brer Rabbit, en sot down fer to tell 'im how 'twuz, en w'iles dey wuz a settin' dar, yer come ole Miss Fox a slippin' up en grab um bofe. Den she tell um w'at she gwine do.
De fever an' Marse Chan's bein' kilt hed done strain her, an' she died jes' fo' de folks wuz sot free. "So we buried Miss Anne right by Marse Chan, in a place whar ole missis hed tole us to leave, an' dey's bofe on 'em sleep side by side over in de ole grabeyard at home. "An' will yo' please tell me, marster?
And the Man were welly glad, cause he hadn't got but one Shoe, and he were hopping to get the other." Here I ventured on a question. "Do you mean 'hopping, or 'hoping'?" "Bofe," said Bruno. "And the Man took the Goat out of the Sack." "And he said to the Goat, 'Oo will walk about here till I comes back. And he went and he tumbled into a deep hole. And the Goat walked round and round.
So Ham an' me jes' carried him into dis house, an' got blankets and kivers, and wash him wid wa'm water, and took keer on him; setted up all de time, one or bofe on us, and kep' him good an' wa'm, an yo' see he's done gittin' well. De good Laud heah our prayers, an' he whisper to pore ole Marfa dat he gwine to fetch him out for some good he gwine to do for us pore people.
"Lawdy Gawd, Missy, but dey done gone! bofe of 'em!" "Who is gone?" demanded Sophy, as the woman beside her trembled and grew paler still. "Marse Jack and dat fool nigger, Hannibal." "Mr. Hamlin gone?" repeated Sophy incredulously. "When? Where?" "Jess now on de down boat. Sudden business. Didn't like to disturb yo' and yo' friend. Said he'd write." "But he was ill almost helpless," gasped Sophy.
"No, sah," said Sam, bowing and smiling benignantly, "but he done tole me to say, when you and Miss Alison come, hit was to make no diffunce, dat you bofe was to have supper heah. And I'se done cooked it yassah. Will you kindly step into the liba'y, suh, and Miss Alison? Dar was a lady 'crost de city, Marse Ho'ace said yassah."
Dave burst into a shout of unrestrained glee at the discovery that his London and country Grannies were sisters. "Oy shall wroyte to say me and Dolly are glad. Ever such long letters to bofe." A moment later his face had clouded over. "Oy say!" said he, "will they be glad or sorry?" "Glad," said Gwen venturesomely. "Why should they be sorry? You must write them very, very long letters."
Hit looks pisonous tickly ter me, days wat I sez, but w'en dey keep up dey naggin' day in en day out, en I carn' git shunt er um, I hop right up en put on my Sunday bes' en go 'long wid 'em ter de chu'ch me en Eve bofe a-mincin' des like peacocks.
Dog my cats if it ain't all I kin do to tell t' other fum which, let alone his pappy." She put her cub in Tommy's elegant cradle and said: "You's young Marse Tom fum dis out, en I got to practice and git used to 'memberin' to call you dat, honey, or I's gwine to make a mistake sometime en git us bofe into trouble. Dah now you lay still en don't fret no mo', Marse Tom.
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