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Updated: May 2, 2025
Worthington, Aunt Eunice, and Densie to remain quietly in her own room, joined the negroes below, cheering them by her presence, and by her apparent fearlessness keeping up their sinking courage. "We's better gin dem de hosses, Miss Ellis," Claib said, entreatingly, as blow after blow fell upon the yielding door "'cause dey's boun' to hab 'em."
Claib had offered him food and offered him drink, but both had been refused, and opening the stable door so that he could go in whenever he chose, Claib had left him there alone, solitary watcher of the night, waiting for poor Hugh. Returning to the house, Mug stole upstairs to the door of the sickroom, where Alice was now alone with Hugh.
He longed to be alone with his troubled thoughts. Mechanically bidding Mabel "Good night," he ran down the marble steps, and stepping into his carriage, ordered Claib, the coachman, to drive home as soon as possible. There was no particular necessity for this command, for Claib had been fretting for the last hour about "White folks settin’ up all night and keepin’ niggers awake.
I likes you berry much," the child replied, and Hugh continued: "Yes; but how do I look, I mean? What do I look like, a dandy or a scarecrow?" Muggins regarded him for a moment curiously, and then replied: "I'se dunno what kind of thing that dandy is, but I 'members dat yer scarecrow what Claib make out of mas'r's trouse's and coat, an' put up in de cherry tree.
Leffie was nearly convulsed with laughter, for she had tried the experiment, and found that the distance round her mother’s arm was just the distance round her own slender waist. "Do tell!" said Aunt Dilsey, stopping from her work and wiping the drops of perspiration from her shining forehead. "Do tell! It feels drefful sleek on me, but my old man Claib says it’s too tight."
"Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these ye did it unto Me," kept ringing in Hugh's ears, as he hastily dressed himself, striking his benumbed fingers together, and trying hard to keep his teeth from chattering, for Hugh was beginning his work of economy, and when at daylight Claib came as usual to build his master's fire, he had sent him back, saying he did not need one, and bidding him go, instead, to Mrs.
Lacey, was, however, in the carriage, and alighting, he advanced toward his wife and gave her the letter he had just received from his son. Mrs. Lacey read it, while the blacks crowded around Claib asking him scores of foolish questions, such as, "Was Marster George in the boat? And why wasn’t he thar? And when would he be thar?" When Mrs.
"The lawyer feller, he ain't to blame," said one apologetically. "He made things look right plain. He ain't no fool." "Well, I don't know as he helt no aidge over ole Claib Benson," said another argumentatively. "Claib puts it mighty powerful." "Yes, but," said the other eagerly, "Claib means fer hangin' by the Co'te." "Shore," said a voice.
There was no doubt of it Pitt Bushyager was handsome in a rough, daredevil sort of way. I am describing them, not from the memory of that morning, but because I knew them well afterward. I knew all the Bushyager boys, and their father and mother and sisters; and in spite of everything, I rather liked both Pitt and Claib.
It was a splendid escape valve for his pent-up feelings, and Hugh carried everything before him, taking by turns both sides of the question, and effectually silencing the two combatants, who said to each other in parting: "We shall hear from that Kentuckian again, though whether in Rebeldom or Yankeeland we cannot tell." Claib had brought two letters from the office, one for Mrs.
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