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Updated: June 12, 2025
"They git fifteen or twinty a day sometimes," said Barney, as they retraced their steps to the cottage; "and I've hear'd o' them getting stones worth many thousands o' pounds; but the biggest they iver found since I comed here was not worth more than four hundred." "And what do you do with them, Barney, when they are found?" inquired Martin.
"No, no, boy; I've no faith in my luck with the di'monds or gould. Nevertheless I have hear'd o' men makin' an awful heap o' money that way; partiklarly wan man that made his fortin with wan stone." "Who was that lucky dog?" asked Martin.
I'se hear'd since den dat white folks learnt dat if dey started to whip a Injun dey'd better kill him right den or else he might git dem. "My mammy's name was Harriet Clemens. When I was too little to know anything 'bout it she run off an' lef' us. I don't 'member much 'bout her 'fore she run off, I reckon I was mos' too little.
You know, honey, in dem days husbands an' wives didn' b'long to de same folks. My ma say her husband was so mean dat after us lef' Alabama she didn' want to marry no more. "A man didn' git to see his wife 'cept twict a week. Dat was Wednesday an' Satu'd'y night. "De women had to walk a chalk line. I never hear'd tell o' wives runnin' 'roun' wid other men in dem days.
"I hear'd tell 'bout some Nigger sojers a-plunderin' some houses: Out at Pine Ridge dey kilt a white man named Rogillio. But de head Yankee sojers in Natchez tried 'em for somethin' or nother an' hung 'em on a tree out near de Charity Horspital. Dey strung up de ones dat went to Mr. Sargent's door one night an' shot him down, too. All dat hangin' seemed to squelch a heap o' lousy goin's-on.
He brung 'im home to die an' he done it. "Den de Yankees come th'ough DeKalb huntin' up cannons an' guns an' mules. Dey sho' did eat a heap. Dey didn' burn nothin', but us hear'd tell o' burnin's in Scooba an' Meridian. I were a-plowin' a mule an' de Yankees made me take him out. De las' I seen o' dat mule, he were headed for Scooba wid three Yankees a-straddle of 'im.
When I couldn' stan' it no longer I walks right up to Old Mis' an' I says, 'Old Mis', does you know Miss Farrell aint got no cow. She jus' act lak she aint hear'd me, an' put her lips together dat tight. I couldn' do nothin' but walk off an' leave her.
"I reckon I was 'bout fifteen when hones' Abe Lincoln what called hisse'f a rail-splitter come here to talk wid us. He went all th'ough de country jus' a-rantin' an' a-preachin' 'bout us bein' his black brothers. De marster didn' know nothin' 'bout it, 'cause it was sorta secret-lak. It sho' riled de Niggers up an' lots of 'em run away. I sho' hear'd him, but I didn' pay 'im no min'.
But how us gwine a-take lan' what's already been took? "I sho' aint never hear'd' bout no plantations bein' 'vided up, neither. I hear'd a lot o' yaller Niggers spoutin' off how dey was gwine a-take over de white folks' lan' for back wages. Dem bucks jus' took all dey wages out in talk. 'Cause I aint never seen no lan' 'vided up yet. Quality folks didn' have nothin' to do wid such truck.
Mullins I brought ye over some flowers," said Quigg, turning to Jennie as she entered, and handing her the bunch without leaving his seat, as if it had been a pair of shoes. "You're very kind, Mr. Quigg," said the girl, laying them on the table, and still standing. "I hear'd your brother Patsy was near smothered till Dutchy got him out. Was ye there?" Jennie bit her lip and her heart quickened.
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