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Updated: June 23, 2025
The Indian on horseback acted very good-natured; smiled widely, held out his hand, as he approached, and greeted with: "Brudder. How-do, brudder?" "Consarn your yaller hide, I'd 'brudder' you if my gun would fire," thought Simon. But he did not say so. He leveled his piece, and called: "Hey, you! Wait a minute. If I surrender, you treat me well? No hurt?" "No harm, brudder. Treat good.
"Thaiuh 's de debbil, ketchin' mo' niggers nowadays dan he do white men, I 'fo' Gawd b'liebes." "Well, dat's because dey is so many mo' niggers dan dey is white folks," put in a philosopher. "Whut you say 'bout dat, Brudder Peter?" inquired the Persimmon, seriously. None of this discussion was either derision or burlesque.
I had a brudder libbing in de low parrish of Nansemond county, but he is ded. His name was George." I said, "Uncle Davy, you are correct. On one occasion, being at Driver's Store, in lower parrish of Nansemond, I saw a tall and very polite colored man drive up. I was struck with his appearance, and asking him his name, he said George W. Coston, sir.
"Yes, much glad." The Indian looked at one and another of the party. "Where little brudder Raf?" "Ralph is missing," put in Lieutenant Radbury; and then added, quickly, "Do you know anything of him, Big Foot?" The Indian nodded slowly. "You do!" "Yes, see little Raf wid Mexican soldiers." "With the Mexican soldiers!" cried father and son, simultaneously. "You are certain?"
A'm t'ink mebbe-so dat damn good t'ing ol' Bat goin' long. If she damn fine girl mebbe-so Tex, he goin' mar' her. Dat be good t'ing. But, by Gar! if he don' mar' her, he gon' leave her 'lone. Me A'm lak' dat Tex fine, lak' me own brudder. He got de good heart. But w'en he drink de hooch, den A'm got for look after him. He don' care wan damn 'bout nuttin'. Dat four bit in Las Vegas, dats a'right.
Negative grunts and shakes of the head signified that nobody had ever heard of this. "Well, den," said the preacher, gazing blandly around, "all de udder women got 'em yit." A deep silence fell upon the assembly, and in a few moments an elderly member arose. "Brudder Pete," he said, "I reckin you mought as well gib out de hyme."
An' now, Brudder Gabe, raise er chune; an' sing hit lively, bredren; an' wile dey's singin' hit, I want yer ter come up hyear an' fill deze monahs' benches plum full. Bredren, I want monahs 'pun top er monahs dis ebenin'. Brethren I want 'em in crowds. I want 'em in droves. I want 'em laid 'pun top er one ernudder, bredren, tell yer can't see de bottumus' monahs.
When they managed to decipher the oldest known piece of hieroglyphics on an Assyrian brick, what do you suppose it turned out to be?" "Give it up, Brudder Bones," said Tally, dryly, "what was it?" Bob flushed at the old riverman's tone, but went on. "It was a letter from a man to his son away at school.
We both sprang to our feet and seizing our guns, stood ready to fire at a moment's warning, "Halloo!" cried a deep voice, just outside our camp, but instead of answering it we nerved ourselves for a desperate encounter, feeling assured that several Indians were lurking outside our tent. "Halloo! white brudder, come out," cried the same voice in broken English.
"Me berry glad to see you, Sir," said the owner of this countenance, and, accompanying the welcome voice, the removal of a high-crowned white hat exposed to the African warmth of noon a head of true African wool. "Thank you, Solomon." "No, Sir; me Joe Joe Washimtum," replied the black man, proudly; "but me brudder name Dabid him better dan Sarlaman."
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