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Updated: May 24, 2025
Dat old Miss Keswick done gone an' kunjered Mahs' Robert, an' dey's boun' to git mar'ed. I done heered all 'bout it, an' she's comin' h'yar to lib wid Mahs' Robert. But dat don' make no dif'rence to me. I's gwine to lib wid Mahs' Junius an' Miss Rob in New York, I is. But I's mighty sorry for you all." "You Peggy," shouted the irate Aunt Judy, "shut up wid your fool talk!
The old woman made no answer, but folding up the maniac coverlid, she handed it to the girl, and told her to put it away. That night Uncle Isham, by Mrs Null's orders, carried to Aunt Patsy a basket, containing various good things considered suitable for an aged colored woman without teeth. "Miss Annie sen' dese h'yar?" asked the old woman, taking the basket and lifting the lid.
You must know, thar's a creatur' of some sort or other that ranges the woods round about our station h'yar, keeping a sort of guard over us like, and killing all the brute Injuns that ar' onlucky enough to come in his way, besides scalping them and marking them with his mark. "Is it possible," said Roland, "that any one can believe such an absurd story?" "Why not?" said Bruce, stoutly.
"I suppose you mean that meddling humbug, John Loudon," said the man. "Now, look h'yar, you George Mason?" cried Aunt Matilda, making one long step toward the whitewash bucket; "jist you git out o' dat dar door!" and she seized the whitewash brush and gave it a terrific swash in the bucket.
"Hurrah for Kentucky!" roared Colonel Bruce, as he sprang from his horse, and seized the hand of Roland, wringing and twisting it with a fury of friendship and gratulation, which, at another moment, would have caused the soldier to grin with pain. "H'yar we are, captain!" he cried: "picked you out of the yambers!
"He's done 'gaged hisse'f," she said, "ter cut an' haul wood fur Kunnel Martin ober on Little Mount'n fur de whole ob nex' week. It's fourteen or thirteen mile' from h'yar, an' ef he'd started ter-morrer mawnm', he'd los' a'mos' a whole day. 'Sides dat, I done tole him dat ef he git dar ter-night he'd have his supper frowed in. Wot you all want wid him? Gwine to pay him fur preachin'?"
Returning in less than a minute, he put his head into the doorway and addressed the astonished woman who had turned around to look after him. "Look h'yar, you Letty, I don' want to hear no sech fool talk 'bout ole miss. You dunno ole miss, nohow. You only come h'yar seben year ago when dat Plez was trottin' roun' wid nuffin but a little meal bag for clothes.
Although the conduct of his mistress troubled him at times very much he was intensely loyal to her, and he instantly caught the meaning of this aspersion against her. "Now, look h'yar, Aun' Patsy," he exclaimed, "wot you talkin' 'bout? Wot ole miss got to do wid Mister Crof' sprainin' he ankle?
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