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Updated: May 27, 2025
All were agreed, and the boy began: "Now, it's this 'ere way. My boat wuz stolen an' left, right below the upper bridge, an' I foun' footprints an' this 'ere piece of ribbon, which Gil knows b'longed to his sister, for she wore it round her hair.
"He wanted to dress his wife an' chillen lak white folks, did he? Well, he foun' out, he foun' out. By de time de jedge git thoo wid him he won't be hol'in' his haid so high." "Wy, dat gal o' his'n," broke in old Isaac Brown indignantly, "w'y, she would n' speak to my gal, Minty, when she met huh on de street. I reckon she come down off'n huh high hoss now."
The twilight was so thick that the old negress could not see the speaker's face, but a certain tremble and softness of his voice did not escape her notice. "Have ye foun' de Lord, Mas'r Dick?" she asked, quickly. "I know not what I have found," Trafford answered, while his tears fell; "but if I might find his face, and know that it smiled upon me, I should care for little else."
Your slave marriage would not have prevented him, for you never lived with him after the war, and without that your marriage doesn't count." "Wouldn' make no diff'ence wid Sam. He wouldn' marry no yuther 'ooman 'tel he foun' out 'bout me. I knows it," she added. "Sump'n's be'n tellin' me all dese years dat I's gwine fin' Sam 'fo I dies."
"Den de wah broke out, an' w'en it wuz ober de cullud folks wuz scattered. I went back ter de ole home; but Sam wuzn' dere, an' I could n' l'arn nuffin' 'bout 'im. But I knowed he 'd be'n dere to look fer me an' had n' foun' me, an' had gone erway ter hunt fer me.
Dere was no trouble twixt niggers den. "We lay down an' res' at night in de week time. Niggers in slav'ry time riz up in de Quarters, you could hear 'em for miles. Den da cornshucking tuk place. Den we would have singin'. When one foun' a red ear of corn, dey would take a drink of whiskey frum de jug an' cup. We'd get through' bout ten o'clock.
One day in de spring er de year, ole miss pack' up a basket er chick'n en poun'-cake, en a bottle er scuppernon' wine, en Mars Dugal' tuk it in his buggy en driv ober ter Aun' Peggy's cabin. He tuk de basket in, en had a long talk wid Aun' Peggy. "De nex' day Aun' Peggy come up ter de vimya'd. De niggers seed her slippin' 'roun', en dey soon foun' out what she 'uz doin' dere.
"I'se skeered, Marse Robert," Sam persisted, shaking his head gravely. Lee saw the hopelessness of his task and changed his point of appeal. "What do you think of doing?" "Who, me?" "Who else? I can't think for you any longer." "Oh, I'll be all right, sah. I foun' er lot er good colored friends in de bordin' house las' night. Wid dat five hundred dollars, I be livin' in clover here, sah, sho.
Dundee cut in irritably, for he was tired of the discussion, and angry that his copy of "Who's Who" was missing from its customary place in the bookcase. "Me?... I ain't teched none o' yoah things, 'cep'n to dus' 'em and lay 'em down whar I foun' 'em," Belle retorted, mournfulness submerged in anger.
Your slave marriage would not have prevented him, for you never lived with him after the war, and without that your marriage does n't count." "Would n' make no diff'ence wid Sam. He would n' marry no yuther 'ooman 'tel he foun' out 'bout me. I knows it," she added. "Sump'n 's be'n tellin' me all dese years dat I 's gwine fin' Sam 'fo' I dies."
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