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Lawd, Lawd! is de ole missus dun gone?" "No, Aun' Sheba," said Clancy. "Help us revive her, and then help me carry her to a place of greater safety. You come like an angel of light." "I'se rudder hebby an' brack fer'n angel, but, like de angels, we'se all got ter do a heap ob totin' ter-night."

"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it very rotten." "Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments, "but not so berry rotten as mought be, Mought ventur' out leetle way 'pon de limb by myself, dat's true." "By yourself! What do you mean?" "Why, I mean de bug. 'Tis berry hebby bug.

"Very sick, Jupiter! why didn't you say so at once? Is he confined to bed?" "No, dat he aint! he aint find nowhar dat's just whar de shoe pinch my mind is got to be berry hebby bout poor Massa Will." "Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about. You say your master is sick. Hasn't he told you what ails him?"

"Dey aint no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin on you," here interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole-bug, solid, ebery bit of him, inside and all, sep him wing neber feel half so hebby a bug in my life." "Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly, it seemed to me, than the case demanded, "is that any reason for your letting the birds burn?

"Dey aint NO tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a-tellin' on you," here interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole-bug, solid, ebery bit of him, inside and all, sep him wing neber feel half so hebby a bug in my life." "Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly, it seemed to me, than the case demanded, "is that any reason for your letting the birds burn?

"Very sick, Jupiter! why didn't you say so at once? Is he confined to bed?" "No, dat he ain't! he ain't 'find nowhar dat's just whar de shoe pinch my mind is got to be berry hebby 'bout poor Massa Will." "Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about. You say your master is sick. Hasn't he told you what ails him?"

"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it VERY rotten." "Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments, "but not so berry rotten as mought be. Mought ventur out leetle way pon de limb by myself, dat's true." "By yourself! what do you mean?" "Why, I mean de bug. 'Tis BERRY hebby bug.

"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it very rotten." "Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments, "but not so berry rotten as mought be. Mought ventur out leetle way pon de limb by myself, dat's true." "By yourself! what do you mean?" "Why, I mean de bug. 'Tis berry hebby bug.

"Dey aint no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin on you," here interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole bug, solid, ebery bit of him, inside and all, sep him wing neber feel half so hebby a bug in my life." "Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly, it seemed to me, than the case demanded, "is that any reason for your letting the birds burn?

Dem ole bridges might go down mos' any time. An' dishyer road up yere, it mighty hard to navigate foh er grea' big hebby contraption lak er threshin' machine en er engine. Mos' eve'y year he gits stuck. Las' year tuk er day en er ha'f to git him out. No'm; he's got de rights." "Yes, but, Unc' Zenas, that wheat mustn't be left go to waste." Aunt Dolcey spoke up.