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Updated: June 9, 2025
You see, they say thet them boys had eve'y one had reg'lar questions give' out to 'em, an' eve'y last one had studied his own word; an' ef they was to be questioned hit an' miss, why they wouldn't 'a' stood no chance on earth. Of co'se they couldn't give Sonny the same questions thet had been give' out, because he had heerd the answers, an' it wouldn't 'a' been fair.
"We colored folks never had no chance ter git nothin' befo' de wah, but ef eve'y nigger in dis town had a tuck keer er his money sence de wah, like I has, an' bought as much lan' as I has, de niggers might 'a' got half de lan' by dis time," he went on, giving a finishing blow to a horseshoe, and throwing it on the ground to cool.
'I got to see her it's business, sure-enough business. "'Doan you aunty me! says she. 'Now, you take yo' bisniss with you an' ramble! Bisniss has done sole off eve'y stick an' stone we got! I doan want to hyar no mo' 'bout bisniss long as I live' 'n' bang goes the door. "I waits a minute 'n' then knocks again nothin' doin'. I knocks fur five minutes steady.
"Dar ain' no blankets dese days," said Uncle Ish sadly. "Dey ain' got mo'n er seasonin' er wool in dese yer sto' stuff. Dey wa'nt dat ar way in ole times, sis Verbeny. Bless yo' soul, sis Verbeny, dey wan't dat ar way." "Ole Miss she use ter have eve'y stitch er her wool carded fo' her own eyes," said Aunt Verbeny. "What wa'nt good enough fer her wuz good enough fer de res', en we got hit.
He tuk good keer uv 'im dyoin' er de winter, give 'im w'iskey ter rub his rheumatiz, en terbacker ter smoke, en all he want ter eat, 'caze a nigger w'at he could make a thousan' dollars a year off'n didn' grow on eve'y huckleberry bush.
Narcisse caught step with Richling, and they walked side by side. "How I learned to mawch, I billong with a fiah comp'ny," said the Creole. "We mawch eve'y yeah on the fou'th of Mawch." He laughed heartily. "Thass a 'ime! Mawch on the fou'th of Mawch! Thass poetwy, in fact, as you may say in a jesting way ha! ha! ha!" "Yes, and it's truth, besides," responded the drearier man.
He want stomple 'em eve'y las' one under he boot-heel, 'cep'n dat one Mist' Crailey Gray. Dey's a considabul sprinklin' er dem Ab'litionists 'bout de kentry, honey; dey's mo' dat don' know w'ich dey is; an' dey's mo' still dat don' keer.
Co'se eve'ybody laks a drap now an' den, but it 'peared ter 'fec' Ben mo'd'n it did yuther folks. He didn' hab much chance dat-a-way, but eve'y now an' den he'd git holt er sump'n' somewahr, an' sho's he did, he'd git out'n de narrer road. Mars Marrabo kep' on wa'nin' 'm 'bout it, an' fin'lly he tol' 'im ef he eber ketch 'im in dat shape ag'in he 'uz gwineter gib 'im fo'ty.
You know dat red-head freckled-face yaller gal dat use to sew for Mis' Ann Powers always wear a sailor hat wid a waist on her no thicker'n my wris' an' a hitch in her walk eve'y time she pass a man? Dat's de gal. She stole Wash f'om me an' she's welcome to 'im. Any 'oman is welcome to any man she kin git f'om me. Dat's my principle.
He wuz one er dese yer solemn kine er men, en nebber run on wid much foolishness, like de yuther darkies. He use' ter go out in de woods en pray; en w'en he hear de han's on de plantation cussin' en gwine on wid dere dancin' en foolishness, he use' ter tell 'em 'bout religion en jedgmen'-day, w'en dey would haf ter gin account fer eve'y idle word en all dey yuther sinful kyarin's-on.
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