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Updated: May 11, 2025
Dar's no groun' ploughed yit for wheat, an' dem two han's been 'gaged to come do it, an' dey put it off, an' put it off till ole miss got as mad as hot coals, an' now at las' dey've come, an' she's not h'yar, an' nuffin' can be done. De wheat'll be free inches high on ebery oder farm 'fore ole miss git dem plough han's agin." "That is too bad, Uncle Isham," said Mrs Null.
I had three chullun, but ain't none livin' now." Mississippi Federal Writers Slave Autobiographies "My name is Tom Wilson an' I'se eighty fo' years old. My mammy was name Ca'line an' my pappy was Jeff Wilson. Us lived right out on de old Jim Wilson place, right by New Zion Chu'ch. I lives thar now owns me a plot of groun' an' farms. "Well, us b'longed to Marse Jim an' Miss Nancy Wilson.
Th' two gintlemen had sworn f'r to slay each other at sight or thirty days, an' all Kentucky society has been on what Hogan calls th' quee veev or look-out f'r another thrajeedy to be added to th' long list iv sim'lar ivints that marks th' histhry iv th' Dark an' Bloody Groun' which is a name given to Kentucky be her affectionate sons."
Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' dez ez innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'- birds. "Howdy, Brer Rabbit, sez Brer Fox, sezee. 'You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin', sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he couldn't laff no mo'. 'I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit.
"Pomp see um crawl 'long de groun' like 'gator," he said. "Dah one, two, tick, nineteen, twenty." I gazed intently over the fence, but could only see the dark ground; but Pomp's warning was too valuable to be trifled with. He had proved himself now, and I hurried to where my father stood ready with twenty of our men, and told him.
Bring him home?" "Yes." "Fur de lub o' heben!" stopping short. "A Yankee captain in de house, an' Jackson's men rampin' over de country like devils! Dey'll burn de place ter de groun', ef dey fin' him." "I know." Bone groaned horribly, then went on doggedly. Fate was against him: his gray hairs were bound to go down with sorrow to the grave. He looked up at her wistfully, after a while.
"Knows all about how the Carthygenians fit the French, an' how the English licked the Persians, but here he goes droppin' plum skins on the groun' fur any wanderin' warrior to see." "Don't you go to attackin' Paul," said Shif'less Sol, "'cause Paul is a scholar like me. I ain't had the opportunities fur learnin', but I take naterally to it, 'specially history.
De dog-gone ole radio en udder things ez takin' hits place. Oh Lawdie how dey did baptize down at de wha'f! De Baptist peeple would gather at de wha'f on de fust Sunday in May. Dey would kum fum all de Baptist Chuches. Would leave de chuch singin' en shoutin' en keep dat up 'til dey got ter de river. Hab seen dem wid new clothes on git down on de groun en roll en git covered wid dirt.
"'Tain' no use fer to hoe groun' dat ain' got no richness," she was saying, shaking her huge head until the dipper hanging on the lintel of the door rattled, "en'tain' no use preachin' ter a nigger dat ain' got no gumption. Es de tree fall, so hit' gwine ter lay, en es a fool's done been born, so he gwine ter die. 'Tain' no use a-tryin' fer to do over a job dat de Lawd done slighted.
En dah's de river dat was turn' to blood, en I's looking at de very same groun' whah de plagues was, en de lice, en de frogs, en de locus', en de hail, en whah dey marked de door-pos', en de angel o' de Lord come by in de darkness o' de night en slew de fust-born in all de lan' o' Egypt. Ole Jim ain't worthy to see dis day!" And then he just broke down and cried, he was so thankful.
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