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Updated: May 7, 2025
I'se sometin' berry 'portant for de gemman. Hol' on, I say," and she dashed across the plank, nearly knocking Ted down in her headlong haste. "Whar is 'ee?" she gasped, and continued, "Leg-go, I tell ye. Le' me be," as Ted seized her arm, asking what she wanted, and if she was going back to Jacksonville. "No; leg-go, I tell you. I wants the man from de Norf, what comed to see Miss Dory.
"Sleep, ma baby, why you lie so col', so col'? Loo-la, Loo-la, do Massa want you for His fol'? But, baby, honey, don' you know youah mammy's ol' An' want you, want you, oh, she want you jes' to hol'." A long silence followed the song. The girl laid her guitar down and sat quietly looking straight before her, while Barney played the refrain over and over.
Seems like we was the Isrilites a-crossin' the Red Sea, an' the fust of us is jest steppin' on de sho'. Lordy, Miss Burford, ma'am, I don't know how I'se gwine to stan' dat great day when we is th'ough, shore enuff. Wash'n'ton city ain't gwine be big enuff to hol' me." "It will be a great day, Uncle Matthew," replied Miss Burford, with elated decorum of manner.
Den de lark spoke up, an' sezee, 'Sis Nancy Jane O, sezee, 'we birds is gwinter gin er bug feas', caze we'll be sho' ter win de race anyhow, an' bein' ez we've flew'd so long an' so fur, wy we're gwine ter stop an' res' er spell, an' gin er feas'. An' Brer Crow he 'lowed 'twouldn' be no feas' 'tall les'n you could be dar; so dey sont me on ter tell yer to hol' up tell dey come: dey's done got seeds an' bugs an' wums, an' Brer Crow he's gwine ter furnish de corn.
'Bout hahf way to de mahket, I meets a couple o' stewards f'm a U.S. navy cutter anchored off de navy yard. "Hol' on, dar, boy, 'dey sing out, 'wha you gwine so fas'? Grab dis here basket an' tote hit down to de dock.
"Dey's two coveys runnin' fer Alderman over on de Eas' Side. One of 'em's Boozy you knows Boozy. He keeps a place in de Bowery. De udder's a Dutchman, name er Bockerheisen. Boozy's de County Democracy man, Bockerheisen's de Tammany. Less git up a 'sociashun. You'll be president an' do de talkin. I'll be treasurer an' hol' de cash."
'Th' hated enimy has stolen th' ballot an' thrampled on th' r-rights iv th' citizens, says they, 'in the southern part iv th' state faster thin we cud undo their hellish wurruk in our own counties, they says. 'They now hol' th' jobs, they say, 'an' if they stay in they'se no more chanst iv iver ilictin' a dimmycrat again thin there wud be iv ilictin' a raypublican if we got in, they say.
"A man come to Richmond an' carried me an' pappy an' a lot of other niggers ter Loos'anna ter work in de sugar cane. I was little but he said I could be a water boy. It sho' was a rough place. Dem niggers quar'l an' fight an' kills one 'nother. Big Boss, he rich, an' doan 'low no sheriff ter come on his place. He hol' cou't an' settle all 'sputes hisself.
Brer Wolf mighty smart, but nex' time you hear fum 'im, honey, he'll be in trouble. You des hol' yo' breff'n wait." "ONE day," said Uncle Remus, sharpening his knife on the palm of his hand "one day Brer Fox strike up wid Brer Tarrypin right in de middle er de big road.
Bigsby, "ye didn't let that poor feller" "You hol' on!" said her brother; "business is business; but I sez to him: 'Ye oughter put it down to Profit and Loss account. Or perhaps we'll have a chance o' gettin' rid o' them, not in Noo York, where folks is sharp, but here in the country, and then ye kin credit yourself with the amount arter you've got rid o' them." "Laws!
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