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Updated: June 29, 2025
We wuz a-fightin' an' a-fightin' all dat time; an' come one day a letter to Marse Chan, an' I see 'im start to read it in his tent, an' he face hit look so cu'ious, an' he han's trembled so I couldn' mek out what wuz de matter wid 'im. An' he fold' de letter up an' wen' out an' wen' 'way down 'hine de camp, an' stayed dyah 'bout nigh an hour.
"Well, you know, Mistoo Itchlin, so the povvub says, 'Silent give consense. He juz look at me nevvah said a word ha! he couldn'! You not lookin' ve'y well, Mistoo Itchlin. I suppose 'tis that waum weatheh."
Then, renewing his explanation to Kennedy, "I kin see that I don't purvide fur my fambly ez I ought ter do, through hatin' work and lovin' to play the fiddle." "I ain't goin' ter hear my home an' hearth reviled." Aurelia laid an imperative hand on her husband's arm. "Ye know ye couldn 't make more out'n sech ground, though I ain't faultin' our land, neither.
An' he eben 'lowed he mought 'suade 'em ter run erway wid 'im an' dey could all get ter de No'th, fer de nights wuz cl'ar now, an' he couldn' lose de No'th Stah. "So he waited two er th'ee days, an' sho' nuff long come Dasdy one mornin, comin' over to Mars Dugal's fer ter fetch some things fer her missis.
Mars Walker say he s'picion' one er two er de niggers, but he couldn' tell fer sho, en co'se dey all 'nied it w'en he 'cuse em un it. "Dey wa'n't no bacon stole' fer a week er so, 'tel one dark night w'en somebody tuk a ham fum one er de smoke-'ouses.
All de land I'se ever got I work mighty hard fer it an' I'se got it yit. "One day afte' Mr. Gatlin said he couldn' pay me I run 'way an' went to New Orleans an' got a job haulin' cotton, an' made my 50 cents an' dinner every day. I sho' had me plen'y money den. I stayed dere mighty close on to fo' years an' den I went to Tylertown an' hauled cotton to de railroad fer Mr. Ben Lampton. Mr.
"I couldn' help his goin', could I?" muttered 'Bias, but his eyes were uneasy under the wrath in hers. "You couldn' help it?" she echoed in scorn, and pointed to the figure on the bed.
You couldn' pull me aouter Mizzourah with pothooks these days," declared the big man earnestly. "What's that the tramp-boy's sayin' naow?" The tramp-boy was making a trumpet of his hands. "All ready!" he shouted, with one of his high, musical yodels, "Le's start!"
In de meantime my ma she had started out, too. She warned him to hide, so dey didn' git 'im. "Soon after dat de Yankees hel' a trial in Tuscaloosa. Dey carried me. A man hel' me up an' made me p'int out who it was dat come to our house. I say, 'Dat's de man, aint it Marster Will? He couldn' say "No", 'cause he'd tol' me twas him dat night.
'It was late in the evening following upon the events related in the previous chapter' I got that out of a paper Mrs Bowldler carries about in her pocket. It is called 'Bow Bells, and you can depend on it, for it's all about the highest people 'when Ernest rang at the bell of Number 20 Grovener Square. I got that address, too, out of Mrs Bowldler. She said you couldn' go higher than that.
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