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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Then you'll stay here," I whispered. "Yass, sih, ef de Lawd wil' I mean ef you wants me, sih yass, sih, thaynk you, sih. I loves to tend on Mis' Fontenette, she got sich a bu'ful fa aith, same like she say I got. Yass, sih, I dess loves to set an' watch her wid dat sweet samtimonious fa-ace."
As I waited for him in the still street, I heard far away a quick footstep. By and by I saw a man pass under a distant lamp, coming toward me. I looked with all my eyes. Just then my neighbor came back. "Listen," I murmured. "Watch when that man comes under the next light." He watched. "It's Fontenette!" "Well," said the Creole as he joined us, "he's yondeh all right except sick.
Fontenette remarked to her one Sunday afternoon in our garden, that she must have got her English first from books. "Yes," she said, "I didt. Also I have many, many veeks English conversations lessons befo'e Ame'ica. But I cannot se p'onunciation get; because se spelling. Hah! I can not sat spelling get!" O, but didn't I want to offer my services?
Fontenette, taking her cue from me, spoke to him of his plant-and-insect lore as one of the many worlds there are within the world, no more displacing it than light displaces air, or than fragrance displaces form or sound. He made her say it all over again, and then asked: "Vhere vas dat?" His whole world was not really as wide as Gregory's island was to its gentle hermit.
My belief was confirmed, I say; but I was glad to see also that no one else read as I read the signs by which I was guided. At the cemetery gate I heard some one call "Yo' madam is sick, sih," and, turning, saw Mrs. Fontenette, deathly white, lift her blue eyes to her husband and he get his arm about her just in time to save her from falling.
She had come, she said and scarcely on the lips of the loveliest Creole did I ever hear a more bewitching broken-English she had come according to a half-promise made to Mrs. Fontenette to show her "I tidn't etsectly promised, I chust said I vill some time come " "And Mrs. Fontenette didn't object," I playfully interrupted
But, like Bunyan's Christian, I recalled a text and so got by; which text was the wise saying of that female Solomon, "se aunt of my muss-er" "One man can't ever'sing have, and mine" establishment is already complete. Meantime, Mrs. Fontenette, from farthest off in our group, had slipped around to the Baroness.
He never found out how well I knew. "Fontenette, I'll tell you what to do with it." "No, you don't need; I know whad thad is. An' thaz the same I want me. Only you thing thad wou'n' be hasking her too much troub'?" "No, indeed. There's nothing else you could name that she'd be so glad to do." When I told Senda I had said that, the tears stood in her eyes. "Ah, sat vass ri-ight!
I hurried to Fontenette and his wife a few steps away, but he was not with them. The three of us turned back and came upon the rest of our group, but neither had they seen him. Our other neighbor said he must have got into a car.
No, if I can have me only se right soughts, and find me se right vords for se right soughts, I sink I leave se p'onunciation to se mercy of P'ovidence." Mrs. Fontenette blushed as prettily as a child, and let her husband take her hand as he said, "The Providence that wou'n' have mercy on such a pronunshation like that ah well, 'twould have to become v'ey unpopular!"
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