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Updated: June 22, 2025
Andy had let out that his father was a miller up there in York State, an' a story had got round among the crew that his granfather an' great-gran'father was millers, too; an' the way the fam'ly got such big hands come from their habit of scoopin' up a extry quart or two of meal or flour fur themselves when they was levellin' off their customers' measures.
"'Whatever does this yere Mexican fam'ly mean, says the Red Dog man, a-surveyin' of 'em plenty scornful, 'a-draggin' of their domestic brawls out yere to offend a sufferin' public for? Whyever don't they stay in their wickeyup an' fight, an' not take to puttin' it all over the American race which ain't in the play none an' don't thirst tharfor?
There's middle-aged sports, in the fifties or over, some of 'em with their fat, fussed-up wives, others with giddy young Number Twos; then there's jolly, sunburned, comf'table lookin' fam'ly parties, includin' little Brother with the peeled nose, and Grandmother with her white lace cap.
Bracken had the nerve to tell me she knew Mary Rose wasn't a child for childern weren't allowed in the buildin'. What was I to do, Larry Donovan, but say she'd wash her dirty old dishes? It won't hurt Mary Rose an' I'll give her a hand if she needs it. Isn't it a pity though that Mary Rose couldn't have taken more after her mother's fam'ly?
Julius Caesar she easily kept in mind, as some acquaintance of her color bearing that name was long extant. I can still conjure up her tones and manner when she declaimed "'Dat you, Brutus? An' he done stick him like de rest uv um; and him raised in de Caesar fam'ly like he wuz a son!" The ingratitude of the thing struck through our night-gowns even then.
Nan's fears departed at the first sight of his honest, kindly face, and his cheery greeting to her. "Wal' now, this is nice," he said, heartily, after hearing his wife's brief explanation. "Never can have too many little gals 'round to suit me, an' as fer this young man," he lifted Little Brother gently as he spoke, "he fits into this fam'ly jest like a book.
"Huh!" says I. "Lady trailin' old K. W. here, eh? Must be one of the fam'ly." "Oh no, sir," says Vincent. "I'm quite sure it isn't." "Then shunt her, Vincent," says I. "For you can take it from me, K. W. is in no mood to talk with stray females at the present writing. Shoo her." "Ye-e-e-es, sir," says he; "but but I wish you would see her a moment yourself, sir."
I was down to New York to see him, an' we hadn't got things quite straightened out, an' he says to me, 'I'm goin' over to Newport, where my wife an' fam'ly is, fer Sunday, an' why can't you come with me, he says, 'an' stay over till Monday? an' we c'n have the day to ourselves over this matter? 'Wa'al, I says, 'I'm only down here on this bus'nis, an' as I left a hen on, up home, I'm willin' to save the time 'stid of waitin' here fer you to git back, if you don't think, I says, 'that it'll put Mis' Price out any to bring home a stranger without no notice.
"I didn't know at first whether or no I ought to take it. That's one thing I come on for." "Ye-e-es?" says I, a little sarcastic maybe. "Had to be urged, did you?" "Wall," says he, "I wa'n't sure the fam'ly could afford it exactly." "It was a gift, then?" says I. "Willed to me," says he. "Kind of curious too.
"An' he sez, 'Fire, one, two' an' ez he said 'one, old Cun'l Chahmb'lin raised he pistil an' shot right at Marse Chan. De ball went th'oo his hat. I seen he hat sort o' settle on he head ez de bullit hit it, an' HE jes' tilted his pistil up in de a'r an' shot-BANG; an' ez de pistil went BANG, he sez to Cun'l Chahmb'lin, 'I mek you a present to yo' fam'ly, seh!
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