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"Why, Mammy, you never made such a fuss all during the war when daddy was in danger every day," the girl chided. "Ah, chile, dat was different. Yer daddy was fightin' white men den. But dese are Injuns, an' dey'll scalp de wounded, an' den tie 'em to a tree an' burn 'em alive. Den dey'll come an' carry off de women fo' wives. I'll die befo' I'll be de wife of any ol' Injun, I sure will."
Pleased by the enthusiastic reception of his narrative, he proceeded to point out the morals that were to be deduced there-from. "So, youse see, boss," he said, "it's all to de merry. When dey rubbers for de jools, an' finds dem gone, dey'll t'ink dis Galer guy swiped dem. Dey won't t'ink of us." Jimmy looked at the speaker gravely. "Of course," said he. "What a reasoner you are, Spike!
One day out, dey'll make-a da camp and go for squint t'rough spy-glass, so" making an imaginary transit telescope of his hands. "Den dey'll measure h-on da groun' and squint some more, so." Penfield nodded and a gold piece changed hands silently. "That's all, 'Checo; much obliged. Don't say anything about this over in the camp. Mr.
What deh hell deh yeh wanna tag aroun' atter me fer? Yeh'll git me inteh trouble wid deh ol' man an' dey'll be hell teh pay! If he sees a woman roun' here he'll go crazy an' I'll lose me job! See? Yer brudder come in here an' raised hell an' deh ol' man hada put up fer it! An' now I'm done! See? I'm done." The girl's eyes stared into his face. "Pete, don't yeh remem "
De sojers is a huntin' fer yer, Marse Edwin; dey's all eround us! Hush-sh-sh! said she, as I attempted to rise; 'lie still, honey, dey'll sartainly cotch yer if yer goes out now! Dey's sentinils posted everywhar, and dey'll shoot you down like a dog! My poor Marse Edwin, she wailed, 'why did yer do it? Why did yer do it? Why did yer kill him? He nebber done yer no harm.
"Dat would go on a week or mo', an' den up dey'll all git an' away dey'd go to de nex' plantation, an' take Miss Nancy along wid 'em on her little sorrel mare, an' I on Marsa John's black horse, to take care bofe of 'em. Dem was times! "My old marsa," and his eyes glistened, "my old Marsa John was a gem-man, sah, like dey don't see nowadays.
'Long 'bout den de wedder wuz fetchin' de nat'al sperrits er turkentime outen de pine-trees an' de groun' wuz fa'rly smokin' wid de hotness. Now that it's gittin' sorter airish in de mornin's, dey don't 'pear like de same niggers. Dey done got so dey'll look over in de yard, an' nex' news you know dey'll be tryin' fer ter scrape up 'quaintence wid de dog.
"Den Brer Rabbit, he look sorter sollum, he did, en he up'n say, sezee. "'I speck dat butter melt in somebody mouf, sezee. Den dey went down ter de spring wid Brer Possum, en sho nuff de butter done gone. W'iles dey wuz sputin' over de wunderment, Brer Rabbit say he see tracks all 'roun' dar, en he p'int out dat ef dey'll all go ter sleep, he kin ketch de chap w'at stole de butter.
"Flopper, you go in there and stay with the Patriarch for awhile," she ordered curtly. "I'm going down on the beach to yell." "Yell?" inquired the Flopper, blinking helplessly. "I'm going outside to yell yell. You know what 'yell' means, don't you?" she snapped. "Swipe me!" observed the Flopper, gazing at her anxiously. "Skirts is all de same youse never know wot dey'll do next.
I done remembuhed. He done say somethin' 'bout dat white woman's gol' an' jewelery. Gawd! Dat's whut he done. He done it! Dat's why he wuz fightin' me. He wuz tryin' to git dat kitchen key. An' he got it! He got it! Ef he done kilt dat woman, de white folks goin' to git him sho'ly sho'ly. An' him an' me ain' nevuh gwine git married nevuh. Dey'll kill him or dey'll sen' him to dat pen. Aw, my Gawd!
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