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Updated: June 6, 2025
Three times more the fond father, thus goaded, managed, by accident, business accident, to see old Charlie and increase his offer; but in vain. He finally went to him formally. "Eh?" said the deaf and distant relative. "For what you want him, eh? Why you don't stay where you halways be 'appy? Dis is a blame old rat-hole, good for old Injin Charlie, da's all.
"Right Hon'ble Premier, Sec' State. Hon'ble Mr. Grandm'lin all my fren's. You know dose gen'lmen? All my fren's. Da's all. My fren's goin' make it all right, eh? I re'spect'ble 'nough." The half-seas-confidential style. Grandmoulin acknowledged the stranger but gravely, and was at once immutable oppressed with thought for the country's welfare!
Then Time began. For some ten minutes of it he tried loyally to sleep, counting a great number of thistles in a row, "Da's" old recipe for bringing slumber. He seemed to have been hours counting. It must, he thought, be nearly time for her to come up now. He threw the bedclothes back. "I'm hot!" he said, and his voice sounded funny in the darkness, like someone else's. Why didn't she come?
When you's a trading, trade and git you pay, but when you's a trabelling with gemplemans and he family, da's no time for trade. Ef you open you box at dem times, you must jest put in you hand, and take out de t'ing wha' you hab for gib, and say, 'Yer Cæsar somet'ing for you, boy!" "Hem! that's the how, is it?" said the pedler with a leer that was good-humoredly knowing.
"Poor lilly Lally!" cried he, in a voice that betrayed his anxiety. "O Mass' Ben! fo' de lub o' Gorramity, swum to de right, round dat away, an' let me git 'tween you an de ravenin' beast. To de right! da's de way. Do yer bess, Mass' Brace, an' gi' me time get up. I take care o' de lubber ef I once get im widin reach o' dis chile's arm." The injunction thus uttered had the desired effect.
'Bout next Saturday you take two sacks of flour and some pork an' potatoes around an' see that she is fixed up right. Da's al'ays doin' them things, too, on the quiet. So Ma goes with about $15.00 worth o' truck. The old witch was kinder 'stand off. She didn't say much.
Dana Da's letters were very insulting, and if he had then offered to lead a new departure, there is no knowing what might not have happened. But Dana Da was dying of whiskey and opium in the Englishman's godown, and had small heart for honors. "They have been put to shame," said he. "Never was such a Sending. It has killed me."
"Cats," said Dana Da, with a hiccough, for he had discovered the Englishman's whisky bottle. "Cats and cats and cats! Never was such a Sending. A hundred of cats. Now give me ten more rupees and write as I dictate." Dana Da's letter was a curiosity. It bore the Englishman's signature, and hinted at cats at a Sending of cats. The mere words on paper were creepy and uncanny to behold.
I no see dat someting yet. We sure see de long snout, by 'm by." "The long snout! what do you mean by that, Snowy?" "Wha do a mean? de long-nose a mean. Tole ye so! dar he be yonner, right on de la'bord quarter. Dis nigger knew he no far off. Da's why de beauties hab come roun de raff; an dat I hope keep um hyar till we hab cotch a few ob dem!"
Our people home tell us Yankees want niggers to kill; an' da boils 'em up in great caldrons to eat, 'case da's starvin'. But all de white men gone into de army, an' lef' us all wid missus, an' da locks de bacon up for de sojers, an' gib us little han'ful o' meal a day, an' we's got weak an' trimbly. An' I tole my people we's gwine to die anyhow, an' we'd try de Yankees."
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