Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
Jeff, going out to the kitchen for the last course, said to Aunt Dilsey: "Ole boss-man seem lak he's got somethin' on his mind worryin' him this mawnin'." When Jeff returned, with a turn of crisp waffles in one hand and a pitcher of cane sirup in the other, he stared in surprise, for the dining room was empty and he could hear his employer creaking down the hall.
Dave had patien'ly endyoed de finger er scawn, en all de hard words w'at de niggers pile' on 'im, caze he wuz sho' Dilsey would stan' by 'im, en would n' b'lieve he wuz a rogue, ner none er de yuther tales de darkies wuz tellin' 'bout 'im. "W'en Dilsey come back fum town, en got down fum behine de buggy whar she b'en ridin' wid ole mars, de fus' nigger 'ooman she met says ter her,
Rondeau saw he had stretched a trifle too much, but he answered, "Well, anyhow, he throwed it away, and I’m goin’ to keep it till—till, you know when, Dilsey." "Keep it till you’re gray," said Aunt Dilsey. "Leffie ain’t goin’ to be married with no such flummery." Here Leffie, anxious to change the conversation, asked, "What of Miss Fanny?"
"No, marster, never; ’strue’s I live," said Rondeau, who left the room and went in quest of Leffie. But he did not dare to repeat the scene of the morning, for Aunt Dilsey was present, bending over a large tub of boiling suds, and he felt sure that any misdemeanor on his part would call forth a more affectionate shower bath than he cared about receiving.
And Uncle Pomp mounted the donkey that Dilsey had ridden, and rode off with his master, while Diddie and Dumps climbed on top of the fence to catch the last glimpse of them, waving their sun-bonnets and calling out, "Good-bye, Mr. Tight-fis' Smith and Uncle Pomp." His negroes not only had holiday, but a barbecue, and it was a day of general mirth and festivity.
"Dave wuz buried down by de swamp, in de plantation buryin' groun'. Wiley didn' died fum de woun' he got in Mars McIntyre's hen 'ouse; he got well atter a w'ile, but Dilsey wouldn' hab nuffin mo' ter do wid 'im, en 't wa'n't long 'fo' Mars Dugal' sol' 'im ter a spekilater on his way souf, he say he didn' want no sich a nigger on de plantation, ner in de county, ef he could he'p it.
"Have you said your lesson yet?" asked Dumps. "No, an' I ain't ergoin' to, neither," answered Diddie. "An' yer ain't had yer dinner, nuther, is yer, Miss Diddie?" asked Dilsey. "No; but I don't care 'bout that; I sha'n't say my lesson not ef she starves me clean ter death."
Leffie offered no remonstrance, and as Aunt Dilsey just then screamed for her, Rondeau went alone to the garden and proceeded to disinter the buried document. ’Twas but the work of a moment, and could Julia have been cooling herself in Greenland, as she ought to have been, all would have ended well.
"Come in," said the doctor, and Aunt Dilsey entered. In a very sad tone, she commenced telling how "that ’tarnal Rondeau was raising Cain in the kitchen. He’s kissed Leffie, and me too!" "Kissed you, has he?" said Dr. Lacey. "Yes, sar, he done that ar very thing, spang on the mouth," said Dilsey.
I know she's ez purty an' ez good a gal ez kin be found anywhahs!" As the weeks went by, Betsy Gilcrest did not sing over her work in her old light-hearted way. Mrs. Gilcrest was not an observant woman; but Aunt Dilsey, the old "black mammy," noticed the change in her idolized young mistress.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking