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"Oh, good, sweet Massa Onyx, dear Massa Onyx Teady, every body know you good person quiet, wise somebody you is all person sabe dat," whined Charley; then slipping near our friend, he whispered to him "but de best of we lob bit of fon now and dende best of we lef to himshef sometime."
"Co'se Becky went on some 'bout losin' her man, but she could n' he'p herse'f; en 'sides dat, she had her pickaninny fer ter comfo't her. Dis yer little Mose wuz de cutes', blackes', shiny-eyedes' little nigger you eber laid eyes on, en he wuz ez fon' er his mammy ez his mammy wuz er him. Co'se Becky had ter wuk en did n' hab much time ter was'e wid her baby.
'Doctah Seveeah, says I, 'don't you call me a jackass ag'in! An' 'e din call it me ag'in. No, seh. But 'e din like to 'ush up. Thass the rizz'n 'e was a lil miscutteous to you. Me, I am always polite. As they say, 'A nod is juz as good as a kick f'om a bline hoss. You are fon' of maxim, Mistoo Itchlin? Me, I'm ve'y fon' of them.
W'en dey pass de time er day wid wunner nudder, Brer Rabbit, he open up de confab, he did, en he ax Brer Fox whar he git dat nice string er fish, en Brer Fox, he up'n 'spon' dat he kotch um, en Brer Rabbit, he say whar'bouts, en Brer Fox, he say down at de babtizin' creek, en Brer Rabbit he ax how, kaze in dem days dey wuz monstus fon' er minners, en Brer Fox, he sot down on a log, he did, en he up'n tell Brer Rabbit dat all he gotter do fer ter git er big mess er minners is ter go ter de creek atter sundown, en drap his tail in de water en set dar twel day-light, en den draw up a whole armful er fishes, en dem w'at he don't want, he kin fling back.
"An' that li'l' coterie, sinze hearing that from Beloiseau juz' this evening, are anxiouz to see you at ones; they are, like ourselve', so fon' of yo' son; and they cannot call all together my faith, that would be a procession! And bi-side', Mme. Castanado she well you understan' why that is she never go' h-out. Same time M. Castanado he's down-stair' waiting "Shall I go around there with you?
Forthwith there was a general shout, the wenches crying: "A man from the north country, hee, hee!" and the fellows crying: "A man from the north country, hoo, hoo!" "Is this the way you treat strangers in the south?" said I. But I had scarcely uttered the words when with redoubled shouts the company exclaimed: "There's Cumraeg! there's pretty Cumraeg. Go back, David, to shire Fon!
I'm ord'narily very fon' of art, but f'law needs good legs t' 'zamine picshur, an' I'm boun'ter confesh my legsh not just 'dapted t' " "Nein." "Eh?" "It vasn't noddings like dot." "'Taint china, is 't, Boffski? 'Taint Willow Pattern er Crown Derby er zat sorter zing? T' tell truth, Boffski, I aint mush on china. Some people go crashy at er shight er piece nicked china.
"Does the tuna live on flying-fish only, Vincente?" asked Colin of the boatman, a couple of days before he was going to leave. "Mos'ly zey do, sair, I t'ink," was the reply, "zat is, when zey can get dem. But zey'll eat nearly any fish an' zey are quite fon' o' squid. Some fishermen use squid for tuna bait, but I don't t'ink much of ze idea."
How came a Paston into Ynys Fon? Are there any people bearing that name at present in these parts?" "Not that I am aware," said Pritchard, "I wonder who his wife Ann was?" said I, "from the style of that tablet she must have been a considerable person." "Perhaps she was the daughter of the Lewis family of Llan Dyfnant," said Pritchard; "that's an old family and a rich one.
"Well," said the old man, "I have lived here a great many years, but never before did a Saxon call upon me, asking questions about Gronwy Owen, or his birth-place. Immortality to his memory! I owe much to him, for reading his writings taught me to be a poet!" "Dear me!" said I, "are you a poet?" "I trust I am," said he; "though the humblest of Ynys Fon."
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