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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I 'membahs all 'bout de slave time. I was powerful small but my mother and daddy done tole me all 'bout it. Mother and daddy bofe come from Vaginny; mother's mama did too. She was a weaver and made all our clothes and de white folks clothes. Dat's all she ever did; just weave and spin. Gran'mama and her chilluns was sold to the Lett fambly, two brothers from Monroe County, Alabama.
And it's well if I can let you up to see your gran'mama at tea-time." "Oh, Nurse, and I did so want to show her the things I worked for her! She wouldn't be angry; not if I told her myself. I know it would make her laugh " "'Deed, and you sha'n't tell her a word of it, Miss Terry. If she was asleep and didn't hear the scrimmage, we'll just leave her in peace about it."
"Let me carry it to her," cried Flora to Greenleaf, rapturously clasping the letter and smiling heroically. "We can overtague them, me and my gran'mama! And then, thanks be to God! my brother we can bring him back! Maybe also ah! maybee! I can obtain yo' generals some uzeful news!" After some delay the pair were allowed to go.
Like Beatrice, she dodged. "Little boys," she announced weakly, "should not speak until they're spoken to." Dick came near strangling on a shred of chicken. "Can't she go, gran'mama? Say, can't she? Tell Be'trice to go home wis us, gran'mama!" "Beatrice" Mrs. Lansell swallowed "is not a little child any longer, Dorman. She is a woman and can do as she likes.
His manner was grave and respectful, but his eyes, Beatrice observed, were having a quiet laugh of their own. "You can't get auntie's watch, nor gran'mama's. Gran'mama frowed 'em all down in the mud. She frowed her money down in the mud, too," announced Dorman, with much complacency. "Be'trice says you is a coyote. Is you?"
I" she was speaking to the whole group "I can only advise her." Dorman gave a squeal of triumph. "See? You can go, Be'trice! Gran'mama says you can go. You will go, won't you, Be'trice? Say yes!" "No!" said Beatrice, with desperate emphasis. "I won't." "I want Be'trice to go-o!"
I wants you to and de puppies'll need you and auntie, and " Dorman gathered himself for the last, crushing argument "and Uncle Redmon' wants you awf'lly!" Beatrice took a sip of ice water, for she needed it. "Why, Be'trice? Gran-mama'll let you go, guess. Can't she go, gran'mama?" It was Mrs. Lansell's turn to test the exquisite torture of that prickly chill along the spine.
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