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Updated: June 12, 2025
"You're jest gettin' your wits back, that's all. I shouldn't wonder if you'd be real pert by the time we get there. I cal'ate you'll be considabul help to me dish-washin' an' so on." The towers and chimneys behind them dwindled. The smoke of the city faded to a blur and grew to clear azure. The wind blew against their faces. After a little the young man got to his feet. "I'm going to walk awhile."
"I never 'spected to come yer," Jimmy Phoebus observed, "but I've hearn tell of this place considabul. The big barn-roofed house is Joe Johnston's tavern for the entertainment of Georgey nigger-traders that comes to git his stolen goods.
I wa'n't plumb sure whether it was the eagle he was doin' or the dep'hs, and it mixed me up some. I didn't jest know whether to soar up aloft or dive considabul deep. It kep' me kind o' teeterin' betwixt and between " He looked at her appealingly, yet with a little twinkle somewhere below. "I see." Sergia's face was dancing. "The names do help." "That's it," said Uncle William, gallantly.
Jackson only threw it considabul more on one side, but even he, gentlemen, didn't take the whole patronage from the Outs; he always left 'em enough to keep up the courtesy of the thing, and we can't go behind him. Not and be true to our traditions. Do I put it right?" "Bee," said the youthful Lowndes Cleburn, extending his hand, "you put it with the lucidity and spirituality of Kulhoon himself!"
"I wuz gonter wait an' git Isr'el Goodrich tew go long an kinder speak fer me, ef I could," said Mrs. Poor. "He's considabul thought on by folks roun' here, and he's a neighbor o' ourn, an real kind, Isr'el Goodrich is. But I don' see him nowhar roun', an mebbe we mout's well go right along, an not wait no longer."
"Some like a flower," he said, "as near as I can make out in the dark." He looked about the huge, bare room, with its single flame shining on the page. She moved away and lighted a gas-jet on the wall, and then another. She faced about, smiling. "Will that do?" Uncle William nodded. "I like a considabul light," he said. "Yes." She drew forward a chair. "Sit down."
If his farm was confiscated, they'd have to go on the town. "Arter all, Perez, we've made somethin by't. I hain't sorry I gone intew it. Them new laws ull be somethin of a lift; an harf a loaf be considabul better nor no bread." He advised Perez to get out of the business as quick as possible. "'Tain't no use kickin agin' the pricks," he said.
"You were late last night," said the artist, watching him. "Yes, considabul late," said Uncle William. He had come upon another pile of cigar-ashes behind a picture on the shelf, and was brushing it up, whistling softly. "You must 'a' smoked a good deal," he said, rapping out the ashes. "I've been sweepin' 'em up ever since I come." "I did. It helped me forget."
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