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Updated: May 31, 2025
Rastus's white eyeballs, standing out in terror, rolled ominously up and then down in answer, leaving a doubt to be inferred. "How old is yo', son?" asked the old man fiercely, bracing hard as the craft yawed heavily. "I ain't gwine to git any older, dat's sho'," replied the boy. "W'y, yo' poor coon," retorted Sandy. "ef yu'se ole as Jehos'phat, I'se wu'ked disher reef fo' yu'se bo'n."
An' when me'n de ole man come home from de funeral dey buried him in de white folks' buryin'-groun, long side o' Miss May's little gal what died an' put a tombstone at de head when we come home from de funeral dat night, de ole man look at de baby on my lap an' he say, 'Delphy, honey, he say, 'I think disher baby mout be name Grief. An' we name him Grief."
"But you wouldn't expect to take Christopher Columbus And-so-forth to Alaska with us; would you?" asked Andy Suggs. "Why not?" demanded the darkey. "He flowed to de moon in de perjectilator; didn't he? Huh! In co'se if de perfessor goes after disher chrysomela-bypunktater, I gotter go, too; and in co'se if I go, Buttsy done gotter go. Dat's as plain as de nose on yo' face, Andy."
They knew that this was the old bed of the Arctic Ocean; but the waters of that cold sea had receded and left little but ice-bound pools here and there. "Fo' de goodness gracious sake!" cried Wash. "Does yo' mean ter try ter mak' me beliebe dat disher place is whar' de great an' omniverous ocean once rolled? Dat de hugeous salt sea broke its breakers on dem ice-bound shores? Git erlong, chile!
And I was inspiring him with absolute confidence for next year's campaign. Money, you are aware, is no longer a question to terrify me. I hold proofs that I have conclusively frightened Government, and you know it. But this regards the manipulation of the man Disher. He will now dictate to me.
I don't spec' w'ite folkses to wait on me han' an' foot disher way naw'm!" "You're going to be treated just like one of the family, Uncle Rufus," cheerfully cried Ruth, who had likewise climbed the stairs to see him. But somebody must do the chores. The back porch was mainly cleared; but a great drift had heaped up before it higher than Ruth's head.
"Disher day fo'git ter grow," complained Washington, rolling his eyes until, as Jack suggested, they could see only the whites of them in the dark, and the gleam of his teeth. "'Nstead o' bein' as sunshiny as it doughter be arter dat storm, it's suah growin' night fast! 'Taint a full-grown day, nohow!" "Sort of stunted; is it, Wash?" chuckled Jack.
"No. But I hasn't gotter encourage him in disher foolishness ob runnin' up an' down de world, huntin' fo' new t'ings. I don't like new t'ings," declared Wash. "Looked disher now! Whoeber said Washington White wanted ter transmogrify hissef to a new planet? Nobody, not dat I hears on." "I reckon we none of us had much choice in the matter," returned Jack, with a sigh. "Glory!
"For de goodness gracious Agnes' sake!" gasped the negro, "yo' suahly ain't a-gwine ter dribe me ter wo'k up in disher flyin' contraption? Dat would suah be cruelty ter animiles, boy it. suah would!" "We've got to eat, Wash," said Jack, chuckling, "and you are steward and cook of this craft." "Gollyation! did I ship fo' sech wo'k? I nebber knowed it.
Meanwhile all but Jack and Washington White had piled up in the cabin for some much-needed sleep. Jack's wounded hand would not let him rest, so he offered to keep watch, while the black man had been reposing most of the time in which Andy and the oil man had dug so strenuously at the cliff. "Disher proves, Massa Jack, how contrariwise disher world do go," Wash grunted.
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