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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Lor' bless you, chil'en," said Aunt Matilda, "I hope you'll be able to do all dat." Harry stood quiet a few minutes, reflecting. "How much would seventy-seven and three quarter cents a week amount to in a year, Kate?" said he. Kate rapidly worked out the problem, and answered: "Forty dollars and forty-three cents." "Lor'! but that's a heap o' money!" said Aunt Matilda.
Nothin' nuvver made no diffunce 'bout dat. He nuvver hit me a lick in his life an' nuvver let nobody else do it, nudder. "I 'members one day, when he wuz a leetle bit o' boy, ole marster hed done tole we all chil'en not to slide on de straw-stacks; an' one day me an' Marse Chan thought ole marster hed done gone 'way from home.
Never more, she thought, rocking to and fro before the pleasant blaze, could the old house be bright or cheerful. The sea had quenched its life and its joy, and never again would the merry voice echo in the great rooms, or the quick, eager steps sound along the hall and in at her kitchen-door. "O good, bressed Lord!" moaned she, "bress yer poor chil'en dat's lef' behind!
"Yes, sir; all on 'em, and a deal fatter and rosier and healthier nor they was when I fust took 'em down. Perty little darlings! Didn't they enjoy being in the country, neither, though it was the depth of winter time? Law, Ish sir, I mean it's a mortal sin ag'in natur' to keep chil'en in town if it can be helped! But their ma, poor thing, couldn't help it, I know.
Harriet, the town's on fire', I say git away from here nigger, I ain't goin' to have you makin' fun of my chil'en. "Me and missis was goin' to a neighbor's house one day in a sleigh. The baby slipped out. I say, 'Lor' missis, you're lost that baby. "No, I haven't, Missis say. We stopped and shook the comfort and John was gone.
An' we had chil'en seven chil'en an' we loved dem chil'en jist de same as you loves yo' chil'en. Dey was black, but de Lord can't make chil'en so black but what dey mother loves 'em an' wouldn't give 'em up, no, not for anything dat's in dis whole world. "Well, sah, I was raised in ole Fo'ginny, but my mother she was raised in Maryland; an' my SOULS! she was turrible when she'd git started!
Some time when you come down to see Sally, we'll go down to the cove, and I'll tell you lots of stories about chil'en that have been fetched up by white bears, jist like Romulus and what's his name there." "Come, Mis' Kittridge," added the cheery Captain; "you and I mustn't be keepin' the folks up till nine o'clock." "Well now," said Mrs.
Various exhortations, or relations of experience, followed, and intermingled with the singing. One old gray-headed woman, long past work, but much revered as a sort of chronicle of the past, rose, and leaning on her staff, said "Well, chil'en!
But, you chil'en, put on yer bunnits, an' run an' play in de yard tell I fixes dis chis' uv cloes; an' you little niggers, go wid 'em, an' tuck cyar uv 'em; an' ef dem chil'en git hut, yer'll be sorry fur it, mun; so yer'd better keep em off'n seesaws an' all sich ez dat."
But fuss, do, fo' yer axes fur furgibness, yer mus' turn yer min's ter repintunce. Now I ax you chil'en dis, Is you sorry dat you runned off? an' is you 'pentin' uv wadin' in de ditch?" Uncle Rob spoke very slowly and solemnly, and in a deep tone; and Diddie, feeling very much as if she had been guilty of murder, replied, "Yes, I am truly sorry, Uncle Bob."
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