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Updated: July 24, 2025
Smif, sez Mars' Dugal' ter de oberseah, 'dis yer nigger has tu'nt out so triflin' yer lately, dat we can't keep 'im at de house no mo', en I's fotch' 'im ter you ter be straighten' up. You's had 'casion ter deal wid 'im once, so he knows w'at ter expec'. You des take 'im in han', en lemme know how he tu'ns out.
W'en he got ter de do', he lit en hitch' de mule, en den knock' at de do'. He felt mighty jubous 'bout gwine in, but he was bleedst ter do it; he knowed he could n' he'p 'isse'f. "'Pull de string, sez a weak voice, en w'en Pete lif de latch en went in, de cunjuh man was layin' on de bed, lookin' pale en weak, lack he did n' hab much longer fer ter lib. "'Is you fotch' de mule? sezee.
"No, sah, she am a French lady, sah, if ebber dar was one in dis hyar province. She libs ober yonder in de Rue Dumaine, an' she said to me, 'Yah, Alphonse, you follow dat dar young feller wid de long rifle under his arm an' de coon-skin cap, an' fotch him hyar to me! Dem am de bery words wat she done said, sah, when you went by our house a half-hour ago." "Is your mistress young or old?"
He is a little touched, and, if you manage him right, you can fotch him over. He is under conviction now. Don't let on yet!" "Jerome, this is a sorry visit you have made me," continued the doctor. "Are you entirely lost to all shame, that you could thus enter my house with a band of ruffians behind you?"
You know Mass' Holt an' Mass' Stebbins want dar coffee? Why ain't you done fotch de water?" I faced round on hearing the voice. The tone and patois had already admonished me that the speaker was neither white nor Indian, but of that third typical race that mingles in the social life of the transatlantic world an African.
For a brief interval the standing man withheld his answer, but that was only for the sake of appearances. Then he nodded his head. "I gives ye my hand on hit. I sw'ars." Something like a grunt of bitter laughter came from the bed. "Thet hain't enough ... fotch me a Bible." "I don't know whar hit's at." "I reckon they've got one in a godly dwellin'-house like this.
The old woman now put down her parasol, and made as if she would descend from the cart. "You needn't git out, Aun' Patsy," said several negro boys at once. "We'll fotch your letters to you." "Git 'long wid you!" said the old woman angrily. "I didn't come here fur no letters. Ef I wanted letters I'd sen' 'Liza fur 'em. Git out de way."
Smif, sez Mars' Dugal' ter de oberseah, 'dis yer nigger has done got so triflin' yer lately dat we can't keep 'im at de house no mo', en I 's fotch' 'im ter you ter be straighten' up. You 's had 'casion ter deal wid 'im once, so he knows w'at ter expec'. You des take 'im in han', en lemme know how he tu'ns out.
"Do you-all want to buy eight quarts of wild strawberries?" he asked in that low fine voice of his. "Buy?" demanded Lily Ivy scornfully. "Miss Cyn, honey, go fotch Miss Ann and tell her one ob dem Morleys is here axing us-all to buy his berries, and him in shreds and tatters!" Presently Cynthia returned with her aunt.
"Never mind, Aunt Rosa, don't worry now; I'll manage to take good care of the little creature. I know what you're after, you want her yourself." "Ho, ho ho! Laws, now, Miss Tilda, you dun know noffing 'bout babies; takes an old mammy like me to fotch 'em up. Come here, child; what's yer name?"
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