United States or Iceland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
You can pick out dat rich quartz and pack it down to the crick and vash out the pure quill golt; but dat ore of Old Bunk's is all mixed oop with lead and zinc, and with antimonia too. You vil haf to buy the sacks, and pay the freight, and the smelter charges, too; and dese custom smelters they penalize you for everyt'ing, and cheat you out of what's left.
"No, sah, dat ain't no way foh to go!" the cook exclaimed. He stood there, head thrown forward, chin out-thrust, the cleaver, which he had carried all the time since we left the ship, hanging at his side. "Why not?" asked Roger. "'Cause, sah, whar dey's a road dey's humans and humans heahbouts on dese yeh islands is liable to be drefful free with strangers.
Wen we uster wash quilts we uster cyt a nikasses varrek ubter eb dat made de tub deb my Mammy would put water in dese tubs den soft soap de quilts den us chilluns would git in de tubs in our Bare foots en tromp de dirt out." "We uster use grease lamps, dese war made outer iron, wid a piece of cotton rope down in de grease on dis jes send out a puny smelly light.
He soon became so interested and so confidential that he unlocked a small, closet-like room and showed her his treasures the telescope and other instruments, Argelander's maps, and many books written by the most eminent authorities. "I haf gone mitout mine dinner many und many der day to puy dese.
'Tain't my fault I got on dese clo'es, 'deed it ain't. Dey done fo'ced me. I heared you was here an' I been tryin' to git to ye all day. Oh, I so glad to git hold ob ye, Sammy, so glad, so glad. He broke out into sobs of crying. I was near it myself, for he was the first one from home I had seen, and there was something in his voice that went through me.
Take en sell me, en pay off dese gamblers." Tom was dazed. He was not sure he had heard aright. He was dumb for a moment; then he said: "Do you mean that you would be sold into slavery to save me?" "Ain't you my chile? En does you know anything dat a mother won't do for her chile? Day ain't nothin' a white mother won't do for her chile. Who made 'em so? De Lord done it. En who made de niggers?
After that Tom led the way to the cook's galley, a mere closet of a place just abaft the foremast. In entering one went down two or three steps. Every bit of space was utilized, however. There were drawers and lockers under shelves and tables, while overhead were swinging racks for dishes and provisions. "Hi, Marse Tom, who be dat yo' got dar? One er dese yere shore kids?"
She took occasional rests from practicing, and absorbed herself in calculating her chances. "Dey'll sell dese niggers today fo' stealin' de money, den dey'll buy some mo' dat don't now de chillen so dat's all right. When I takes de chillen out to git de air, de minute I's roun' de corner I's gwine to gaum dey mouths all roun' wid jam, den dey can't nobody notice dey's changed.
Panting, almost breathless, with sweat streaming off him, he gasped out, "Oh, cap'n, dese yer darn niggers all gone mad! Dribe 'em oberbord; clar 'em out, 'n I'll stan' by to grab some o' der likely ones as de res' scatter." "But what about the wages?" said the skipper. "I'm not goin' ter give 'em whatever they like to ask." "You leab it ter me, cap'n. I bet you'll be satisfy.
And as she flattened herself against the ground to blow the kindling pine, she added, between puffs, and without so much as a change of tone: "Don't go, please, ma'am, tell I git dis charcoal lit to start dese shirts to bile. I been tryin' to fix my mouf to ax you is you got air ole crêpe veil you could gimme to wear to chu'ch nex' Sunday please, ma'am?
Word Of The Day