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"Hit brokes me all up ter year you talk so, honey, en I bless de Lawd 'tain' likely any ting gwinter hap'n in dese yere parts. De wah am ragin' way off fum heah, nobody comin' wid news, en bimeby you gits mo' settle down. Some day you know de valley ob peace en quietness." "See here, Aun' Jinkey," said the girl, with a flash of her eyes, "you know the little pond off in the woods.

I'se gwinter do a heap ob tinkin' on all de questions you riz." "Yes, Aun' Jinkey, I do feel better for speaking out, but I expect I shall do a heap of thinking too. Good-by," and she strolled away toward the brook. It was a moody little stream which Miss Lou was following.

"Well, you keep good grass here all the same." "Dar ain' but one way ter do hit, suh, en dat's ter dung hit," replied Uncle Boaz, and he remarked a minute afterwards, as he put down the lowered handles of the wheel barrow, and stood prodding the ashes in his pipe, "I'se gwinter vote fur you, Marse Abel, I sholy is " "Thank you, Uncle Boaz!"

"When you get through with your remedy and give her up," said the old man slowly "I'm gwinter try mine." The Doctor looked at the old man sorrowfully, and after a while he went out and rode home. Then the old man sent them all to bed. He alone would watch the little spark go out. And Bud alone in the yard saw it all.

No slav'ry chains to tie me down, And no mo' driver's ho'n to blow fer me No mo' stocks to fasten me down Jesus break slav'ry chain, Lord Break slav'ry chain Lord, Break slav'ry chain Lord, Da Heben gwinter be my home. Harriett's parents remained with the widowed woman for a while. Had they not remained, she might not have met Gaylord Jeannette, the knight in Blue, who later became her husband.

The Boy crowed long and loud: "'Effer ole wile rooster widder speckly tail Commer crowin' befoh de do', En yo got some comp'ny a'ready, Yo's gwinter have some mo'." Then he grunted, and went on all fours. "Kaviak!" he called, "you take warnin' "'Wen yo' see a pig agoin' along " Look here: Kaviak's never seen a pig! I call it a shame.

Mars Marrabo couldn' do nuffin' mo' d'n kill 'im an' he mought's well be dead as hidin' in de woods wid nobody ter talk ter er look at ner nuffin'. He had jes' come out 'n de woods an' stahted up dis ve'y road, w'en who sh'd come 'long in a hoss 'n buggy but ole Mars Marrabo, drivin' ober ter dat yuther brickyahd youer gwinter see now.

She say she free one minit en a slabe nex' minute twel her haid mos' whirl off her shol'ers. Now she say, 'I doan know 'bout dis freedom business; I does know how ter cook en I'se gwinter cook twel dey gets troo a whirlin' back en forth. You says I mus' trus' de Lawd 'bout spooks, Uncle Lusthah. W'y kyant you trus' de Lawd 'bout freedom?"

With this tightly grasped in her wrinkled brown hand, together with another package of Marny's many times in excess of the stage fare of thirty-six miles and which she slipped into her capacious bosom, Aunt Chloe "made her manners" with the slightest dip of a courtesy and left us with the remark: "Sha'n't nothin' tech her, honey; gwinter stick right close to her till de steam-cars git to movin', I'll be over early in de mawnin' an' let ye know.

I jes' don't see how the old man's gwinter talk to you much longer 'thout he goes to school agin." "No Ben Butler is a answer to prayer," he went on. "The trouble with the world is it don't pray enough. Prayer puts God into us, Bud we're all a little part of God, even the worst of us, an' we can make it big or let it die out accordin' as we pray. If we stop prayin' God jes' dies out in us.