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Fazir Khan looked up sharply at Lewis, then laughed, and spoke something to his men in his own tongue. Lewis comprehended barely a few words of Chil, the Bada tongue, and he knew little of the frontier speeches. But to his amazement the chief addressed him in tolerable, if halting, English.
I were born de secon' o' September in 1842. My mammy b'longed to de Stephensons an' my pappy b'longed to Marster Lewis Barnes. His plantation wasn't so very far from Stephenson. De Stephensons an' Barneses were kin' white people. My pappy were a old man when I were born I were de baby chil'. After he died, my mammy marry a McAllum Nigger. "Dey were 'bout thirty slaves at Stephenson.
Dinsmore too was taking his part in the distribution, and as Adelaide rode up little Horace was in the act of throwing a gay shawl about the shoulders of his nurse, who caught him in her arms and hugged and kissed him over and over, calling him "honey," and "pet," and "you ole mammy's darlin' ole chil'!"
"I ca'n' jestly tell y' what it was, Doctor," the old woman answered, as if bewildered and trying to clear up her recollections; "but it was somethin' fearful, with a great noise 'n' a great cryin' o' people, like the Las' Day, Doctor! The Lord have mercy on my poor chil', 'n' take care of her, if anything happens! But I's feared she'll never live to see the Las' Day, 'f 't don' come pooty quick."
"She was very difficult; so I left the children with her and " "Chil " said Mrs. Prentice, and paused, unable to complete the word. "Five," said Mr. Barrett, in tones of resignation. "It was rather a wrench, parting with them, especially the baby. He got his first tooth the day I left." The information fell on deaf ears. Mrs.
Old Mis' 'ud come over ever' Sund'y mornin' wid sugar an' white flour. Us 'ud mos' ingen'ally have fish, rabbits, 'possums, or coons. Lord, chil'! Dem 'possums was good eatin'. I can tas' 'em now. "Folks dese days don't know nothin' 'bout good eatin'. My marster had a great big garden for ever'body an' I aint never seen such 'taters as growed in dat garden.
Townley and G., and three tired people we were, too tired even to play the gentle game of croquet; glad to sit still in comfortable chairs on the greensward and steep ourselves in the peace and quietness. At tea, Chil the kite, hovering in mid-air, watched us jealously. Suddenly there was a swoop, a dark flutter of wings, a startled squeak from G., and our cake was gone. That's India!
Then the conversation turned to the prospect for the future, and they agreed that it was very bright. Finally, the lawyer said: "He was pretty sick when you first found him, wasn't he?" "He was that, verra bad indeed." "Called a doctor for him, didn't you?" "Oh, yes! Dr. Gunther. He comed every day for a for'night, an' often he comed twice i' the same day. He was awfu' sick, the chil' was."
"I ca'n' jestly tell y' what it was, Doctor," the old woman answered, as if bewildered and trying to clear up her recollections; "but it was somethin' fearful, with a great noise 'n' a great cryin' o' people, like the Las' Day, Doctor! The Lord have mercy on my poor chil', 'n' take care of her, if anything happens! But I's feared she'll never live to see the Las' Day, 'f 't don' come pooty quick."
It is not possible to explain this fully by writing, because the difference is not so much in the orthography of words as in the tone and diction their abridging the speech, "cham" for "I am," "chil" for "I will," "don" for "put on," and "doff" for "put off," and the like. And I cannot omit a short story here on this subject.
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