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You make them a witch pie; that's the thing for YOU to do." "But my lan', Mars Sid, how's I gwyne to make 'm a witch pie? I doan' know how to make it. I hain't ever hearn er sich a thing b'fo'." "Well, then, I'll have to make it myself." "Will you do it, honey? will you? I'll wusshup de groun' und' yo' foot, I will!"
W'en de lamp mans would kum 'round en lite de lamps dey would yell out "all ez well" en I also members de Southern money goin' out en Yankee money kum'n in, en also w'en dere wuzn't any coal 'yer en eve'ythin' wuz wood en mos' ob dis town wuz in de woods." "De slaves wuz tole dey would git forty ak'rs ob groun' en a mule w'en dey wuz freed but dey nebber got hit.
You kin go, too, Susan, ef you want to, seein' ez you air 'titled to a leetle play-spaill arter wuckin' so spry all summah. You kin find a place to sleep with Betsy in Gilcrest's tent, or with Molly an' Ann Trabue. I reckon yer pap an' Henry an' Abner kin git a shakedown in some uv the wagon-beds, or else on the groun'; 'twon't hurt 'em this dry weathah.
You'se 'lowance too hebby dis ebenin'. How you forgit when I tell you ober an' ober? You doan keer. Dat's de foot de shoe's on. You know ole Marse Wallingford's plantation was trompl'd in de groun' too not a stick or stone lef' by Sherman's sogers." "Well, dey sole dere fine house on Meetin' Street, an' dat mus' a brought a heap," protested Uncle Sheba, rousing himself a little.
Come, Cap," he went on, addressing himself to Woodward, "Teague'll be a drappin' on us, thereckly, an' it twon't never do in the roun' worl' for to be a-makin' faces at 'im frum the groun'. Roust up, roust up." Woodward did rouse up.
Ef I notched my gun for the Navvies I've got off an' on in the course uh my travels, she'd shore look like a saw-blade, now I'm tellin' yuh!" "Yes, an' yuh got a couple too many fer to go monkeyin' around on their groun' agin," the sheriff informed him bluntly. "They ain't forgot the trip you made over there after Jose Martinez.
Da eat one dead chile's face all one side off, an' one of its feet was all gnawed off. I don't want to leave my chile on dis bare groun'." The grief of this poor mother was distressing in the extreme. She knew not whether her husband and three older children, sold away two years previously, were still slaves or living, as she had never heard a word from them since they were taken from her.
"Is anybody hurt?" "Not ez we knows on, 'cept two dat's lyin' on de groun' right h'yer by ye," said Nimbus. "Dead?" asked 'Liab, with a shudder. He tried to raise himself up but sank back with a groan. "Oh, Bre'er 'Liab! Bre'er 'Liab!" cried Nimbus, his distress overcoming his fear, "is you hurt bad?
Us dug up de groun' wide a grubbin' hoe an' raised pun-kins an' plenty o' chickens an' ever'thing. "Us lived nice. My people was smart. My white people was good white people. Dey warnt brutish; never whupped us or nothin' lak dat. I don' know nothin' 'bout no meanness. "Mr. Higgins he died pretty soon an' Miss Lizzie went to teachin' school. Her chillun Miss Annie an' dem would try to teach us.
Beyond was a fairy hollow, a cuplike depression, curtained from the world by the red vines that hung from the trees upon its brim, and carpeted with the gold of a great maple; and here Fear became a giant with whom it was vain to wrestle. There had been a struggle in the hollow. The curtain of vines was torn, the boughs of a sumach bent and broken, the fallen leaves groun underfoot.
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