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"Oh, Diddie, I'm er goin' ter be the cook, an' make the pies an' things." "I doin' ter be de took an' make de itty mud takes," said Miss Unker Bill, and the table at once became a scene of confusion. "No, Dumps," said Diddie, "somebody's got to be stoppin' at the hotel, an' I think the niggers ought to be the cooks."
"Oh, but, Dumps," interrupted Diddie, "you said she was dead." "No, I nuver said nuthin' 'bout her bein' dead," replied Dumps; "an' ef you wrote down that she's dead, then you wrote a story, 'cause she's livin' as anybody." "You said the spoon choked her to death," said Diddie.
The ceremony was performed by old Uncle Daniel, the negro preacher on the place, and the children's father gave the bride away. After the marriage, the darkies adjourned to the barn to dance. Diddie and Dumps begged to be allowed to go and look at them "just a little while," but it was their bedtime, and Mammy marched hem off to the nursery.
Smith, and I have heard that I am called 'tight-fisted' in the neighborhood," he replied, with a smile. "Well, we are Major Waldron's little girls, Diddie and Dumps, an' this is my maid Dilsey, an' we've come ter see yer on business." "On business, eh?" replied Mr. Smith, stepping in at the low window.
"Well, I dunno," said the old man, thoughtfully, scratching his head; "I dunno, dat mout be de way; I neber hyeard it, do; but den I ain't sayin' tain't true, caze hit mout be de way; an' wat I'm er stan'in' by is dis, dat dat ain't de way I hyeard hit." "Tell us how you heard it, Uncle Bob," asked Diddie. "Well, hit all come 'long o' de jay bird," said Uncle Bob.
He did not like to be interrupted he loved his own company the best while he was 'doin' business'. I went one day when he was singing the two lines and their quaint chorus which was all he ever sang in my hearing; which gave him great relief, I have no doubt, when lip weary with whistling: Sez I 'Dan'l Skinner, I thank yer mighty mean To send me up the river, With a sev'n dollar team' Lul-ly, ul ly, diddie ul ly, diddleul lydee, Oh, lul-ly, ul ly, diddle ul ly, diddle ul ly dee.
But fuss, do, fo' yer axes fur furgibness, yer mus' turn yer min's ter repintunce. Now I ax you chil'en dis, Is you sorry dat you runned off? an' is you 'pentin' uv wadin' in de ditch?" Uncle Rob spoke very slowly and solemnly, and in a deep tone; and Diddie, feeling very much as if she had been guilty of murder, replied, "Yes, I am truly sorry, Uncle Bob."
"Then we will sit up all night," said Diddie, in her determined way. "I'm like Dumps; I'm not going to bed an' leave 'im cryin'."
"Oh, Dumps, you're such er little goose; that kind of endin' wouldn't suit my story at all," said Diddie; "but I'll have to wind up somehow, for all the little girls who read the book will want to know what become of her, an' there's only six lines to wind up in; an' she's only a little girl, an' she can't get married; besides, there ain't any prince in Nu Orlins.
Here Daddy Jake happened to look down, and he caught Polly nodding. "Oh yes!" said the old man, "yer may nod; dat's des wat's de matter wid de niggers now, dem sleepy-head ways wat dey got is de cazhun uv dey hyar bein' kunkt up an' dey skins bein' black." "Is that what makes it, Daddy?" asked Diddie, much interested. "Ub cose hit is," replied Daddy.
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