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"What's wrong, Dike?" I inquired. "Ev'thing!" he martinied; "ev'thing all wrong lesh have drink my mistake didn't think of it before. Your little son growing to be a splendid boy, Mrs. John!" "This is Stephen, my little brother, not my little son," Peaches explained; "we haven't any children," she added nervously. Dike carefully closed one eye and focussed the other on her.
"Lan's sakes, man, 'tain't mah look-out ef yo' come over yere an' tote mah clo'se-basket an' ev'thing 'round fo' me, no, suh! Ah ain' nev' ast yo', has Ah? All Ah does is to hole Cato so he won't chaw yo' laig off when yo' come botherin' me to please 'low yo' to hulp me, das all Ah do. An' lemme tell yo', nigger, dat ain' no easy job.
And as the party were donning blue overalls to descend into the mine, who should come on the scene but Mr. Sheriff Flood, "to see that ev'thing waz al' right," he explained, exhibiting a protuberant rotundity due reverse of the compass that had been most prominent when Wayland last saw him; and if the doughty defender of the law felt any embarrassment, like the handy man, he did not show it.
Later on someone over in the crowd spoke. "Pity Mist' Crit Madeira aint here to see all this. Haow he woulda taken to it. That son-in-law of his woulda jes adzackly suited Mist' Crit. Pity he had to die off sudden-like jes whend ev'thing wuz comin' araoun'." It was a woman's voice and it was all softened with pity. "Yass, oh yass," said a man next her gingerly.
Whereupon she had said: "Why, William!" And he, "Well, fo' de lan'! 'F 'tain't Mis' McChesney! Well, mah sakes alive, Mis' McChesney! Ah ain't seen yo' since yo' married. Ah done heah yo' married yo' boss an' got a swell brownstone house, an' ev'thing gran' " "I've got everything, William, but a lower berth to Chicago. They swore they couldn't give me anything but an upper."
Den I gwine red up de house an' take de keys to Mass' Gimble, de agent. Den Polly an' me we go back to our own li'l' house in de lane yondeh. De Kun'l done 'range ev'thing propeh, an' we gwine do jus' like he say." Mary Louise felt lonely and uncomfortable in the big house, now that her mother and grandfather had gone away.
I take a runnin' staht an' but 'im in de belly wid my haid. "De nex' do' was locked, an' I bus' hit down. Dere was Jack, 'bout hahf done f'. Blood all over de fla'. Ev'thing in de room busted up an' tipped over. I hauls 'im to a back do', but hit locked. I kick out a winder, heaves 'im onto my shoulder, an' runs back to de ship. "Wen we comes up, dere was de cap'm standin' at de rail.
Dog-oned ef th'aint abaout ev'thing tha'. Got the cote-haouse an' all, the relroad an' all Miss Sally Madeira, Mist' Crit Madeira's daughter, she lives tha'." It had gone like that every time. Not once in the last twenty miles had Steering exchanged a word with man or woman without this sort of reference to Canaan and, collaterally, to Miss Sally Madeira.
"No, seh, I observe he not 'mongs' de comp'ny, 'caze yo' maw's Jane, she call my notice to dat." "I wonder how my mother likes Jane. Do you know?" Johanna showed a pretty embarrassment. "Jane say yo' maw like her. She say yo' maw like her 'caze she always done tole yo' maw ev'thing what happm when yo' maw not at home. Seh?
Yas, SUH! Ev'thing all hunky-dory jes' soon as Marse Kenneth done had his breakfuss. YAS, suh! Yas, SUH!" They ate breakfast by candle-light, Striker and Eliza and Kenneth. There was no sign of the beautiful and exasperating girl. Phineas was strangely glum and preoccupied, his wife too busy with her flap-jacks to take even the slightest interest in the desultory conversation.
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