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Updated: May 5, 2025
They'd listen, 'n' watch her fingers slip over them raised letters, 'n' keep a-listenin' till plumb dark afore thinkin' 'bout goin' home. 'N' arter dark, too; 'cause ter her the darkness didn't make no diff'ence.
Reckon I might go turn a little mo' cotton-seed in the troughs for them cows an' put some extry oats out for the mules an' the doctor's mare an' onchain Rover, an' let 'im stretch 'is legs a little. I'd like everything on the place to know he's come, an' to feel the diff'ence. Well, now I'll load up an' I do hope nobody won't notice the redic'lousness of it.
"Why, right in front o' dis house, dat's wha; ever' day when dat hussy passes up to de Arkwrights', wha she wucks. She pokes along an' walls her eyes roun' at dis house lak a calf wid de splivins." "That going on now?" "Ever' day." A deep uneasiness went through the old man. He moistened his lips. "But Peter said " "Good Gawd! Mars' Renfrew, whut diff'ence do it make whut Peter say?
Your slave marriage would not have prevented him, for you never lived with him after the war, and without that your marriage doesn't count." "Wouldn' make no diff'ence wid Sam. He wouldn' marry no yuther 'ooman 'tel he foun' out 'bout me. I knows it," she added. "Sump'n's be'n tellin' me all dese years dat I's gwine fin' Sam 'fo I dies."
"You don' know nuthin'," she tilted her chin with a grand air of scorn. "You never did know nuthin', an' it hu'ts me mos' persumptuously to say dat you ain' never gwine know nuthin'!" "Don' make no diff'ence ef I knows nuthin', or not; I knows sumfin, jest de same!" he retorted. "Don' strain yohse'f dat a-way, li'l man," she sneered.
"Naw, I dunno nut'n' 'bout dat. I look out for me and my boy, me. And beside," he abruptly threw away the staff he had trimmed, shut his knife with a snap, and thrust it into his pocket, "I dawn't see ed'cation make no diff'ence. You say ed'cation priest say religion me, I dawn't see neider one make no diff'ence. I see every man look out for hisself and his li'l' crowd.
"I don't know that I care to hear him," replied Richling. "Goin' to be a gwan' out-po'-ing, Mistoo Itchlin. Citizens of Noo 'Leans without the leas' 'espec' faw fawmeh polly-tickle diff'ence. Also fiah-works. 'Come one, come all, as says the gweat Scott includin' yo'seff, Mistoo Itchlin. No? Well, au 'evoi', Mistoo Itchlin." The political pot began to seethe.
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