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Updated: May 12, 2025
We's talked about you a heap o' times, but we nevah 'spected to see you. We's nevah fo'git it, Miss Clare." One by one they showed their scars. There was very little clothing to hide them bullet wound and sabre stroke. The memory, dark and sad, stood out before us all. It was a moment not to be forgotten. Our purchases consisted of meat, mainly dry sides of pork, and grits, or hominy, for eating.
"Glo-ree!" chuckled Uncle Rufus, rolling his eyes and weaving back and forth on his chair, in full enjoyment of his own story. "Glo-ree! Dat is a 'casion I ain't nebber lak'ly tuh fo'git. Dar I was on my back on de kitchen flo', wid de goose on top ob me, w'ile de houn'-dawg beat it erway from dar er mile-er-minit ya-as'm!
March, Jan, Aunt Chloe, and several of the neighbors from across the river had assembled to see them off, and many and hearty were the good wishes offered for a pleasant journey and a safe return in the fall. "Good-bye, Misto Mark an' Missy Rufe," said Aunt Chloe; "trus' in de Lo'd while you's young, an' he ain't gwine fo'git yo' in yo' ole age."
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