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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Good-night, Deb," said one, a mulatto, steadying herself against the gas-post. She needed the post to steady her. So did more than one of them. "Dah's a ball to Miss Potts' to-night. Ye'd best come." "Inteet, Deb, if hur'll come, hur'll hef fun," said a shrill Welsh voice in the crowd.
Even black Frank had got over his terror of having natives come up without warning and feel of his arm or his woolly head, though he muttered doubtfully, "Ah ain't sayin' as Ah likes it. Dah's su'thin' so kind of hongry de way dey comes munchin' an' proddin' round dis yeh ol' niggeh."
Suddenly another voice, Cæsar's, broke through the turmoil, reaching even the ear of the desperate man on the other side of the heavy mahogany door. He stopped to listen. "Miss Fanny," said the butler, "dah's a sojah man at de do', an' he wants to know if Mass' Semplan' is heah." "Tell him, no," said Fanny Glen, resolutely. "Say he left a half-hour ago." "My God!" groaned Sempland.
He had some er de dad-fetchedes' ways I ever see. Does you know 'bout dat chile dat he 'uz gwyne to chop in two?" "Yes, the widow told me all about it." "WELL, den! Warn' dat de beatenes' notion in de worl'? You jes' take en look at it a minute. Dah's de stump, dah dat's one er de women; heah's you dat's de yuther one; I's Sollermun; en dish yer dollar bill's de chile. Bofe un you claims it.
"Good-night, Deb," said one, a mulatto, steadying herself against the gas-post. She needed the post to steady her. So did more than one of them. "Dah's a ball to Miss Potts' to-night. Ye'd best come." "Inteet, Deb, if hur 'll come, hur 'll hef fun," said a shrill Welsh voice in the crowd.
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