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Updated: September 19, 2025
"Yais, sah, Cunnel, I knows it, sah," replied the aged negro, with a low bow. "But yo' see, I done found mah li'l Missie what I'se been lookin' fo' so long! Dat's why I come heah!" "Great Scott! Have you been bothering some of the women visitors?" cried the soldier and, wheeling about on his heel, he hurried into the dungeon, which Alice had just decided to leave.
Uncle Jimpson, plowing near by, looked up and smiled: "Dat's right, Honey; sounds lak ole times to hear you singin' ag'in. I was jus' settin' here steddyin' how good I'd feel ef de Cunnel could come a stompin' 'long an' gimme one of his 'fore-de-war cussin's fer bein' lazy." "Oh, Uncle Jimpson, if he could! It seems so long since he left us.
But all were driven from a contemplation of the dead, as the surge of battle again tossed its bloody spray into the square. "Everlasting bad work, Cunnel!" cried Dodge; "they're a killing the squaws! hark, dunt you hear 'em squeaking?
"Well, Tom," the Colonel asked sharply, "what do you want?" "I just want to call it quits, Cunnel. I ain't done nuthin' to be locked up for!" "You're very drunk," the old gentleman thundered. "I'm surprised you would approach my place in such a condition!" "There wasn't no other way, Cunnel. I'm sorry, I am, 'bout what I aimed to do an' I won't no moh, if Mister McElroy'll let up!
Now, when you see Cunnel Blount come home, he'll come up 'long dat lane, him an' de dogs, an' dem no 'count niggers he done took 'long wid him; an' when he gits up to whah de lane crosses de railroad track, ef he come ridin' 'long easy like, now an' den tootin' his hawn to so'ht o' let us know he's a-comin' ef he do dat-away, dat's all right, dat's all right."
Then, executing another demivolte or two, but with much less spirit than he had previously displayed, he returned to Colonel Bruce, saying, "Whar's that horse you promised me, cunnel? I'm a licked man, and I can't stay here no longer, no way no how. Lend me a hoss, cunnel, and trust to my honour."
"Now, Cunnel," said a faltering swam the other day, "I want for get me one good lady," which I approved, especially the limitation as to number. Afterwards I asked one of the bridegroom's friends whether he thought it a good match. "O yes, Cunnel," said he, in all the cordiality of friendship, "John's gwine for marry Venus."
Tom stepped back, not so much in surprise at the word as at Brent's threatening attitude. "Well, I'll leave it to the Cunnel, an' Miss Jane, an' them folks over there, if this ain't a fair an' squar proposition all in the fam'ly, as you might say; bein' as you come honest! For if fine gentlemen like you don't come honest, they'll say Gawd pity the gal!" They'll say: God pity the girl!
'Yo' didn't clap yo' han's at dat goose on de table! er, he! he! he!" And so Uncle Rufus finished the story of the Christmas goose. Ruth started the younger ones to bed immediately; but Tess called down from the stair: "Uncle Rufus! He didn't make her go see the field overseer, did he?" "Sho'ly not, chile. Dat wasn' Cunnel Mark Colby's way. My ol' mammy knowed wot would han'le him.
One ossifer set dere men in ranks, and den de oder head ossifer come ridin' up to de verandy, an' Missy Roberta gave de ribbin from her ha'r to de one dey call cunnel, an' de oder ossifer ask Missy S'wanee fer a ribbin, too.
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