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Updated: June 19, 2025
Ah, ma'amzelle, you buy? S'il vous plait, ma'amzelle, ces pralines, dey be fine, ver' fresh. "Mais non, maman, you are not sure? "Sho', chile, ma bebe, ma petite, she put dese up hissef. He's hans' so small, ma'amzelle, lak you's, mais brune. She put dese up dis morn'. You tak' none? No husban' fo' you den! "Ah, ma petite, you tak'? Cinq sous, bebe, may le bon Dieu keep you good!
"You know Sis' Littlejohn, she been married goin' on five times. Dis-here'll make fo' gentlemans she done buriet an' dey ain't nobody can manage a fun'el like she kin; 'pears like hit jes' come natchel to her. She sho' is done a good part by eb'ry single husban' too, an' she's figgerin' to outdo all the yuthers wid Brudder Littlejohn's co'pse."
Folks sometimes takes 'em fer one ernudder, I s'pose it tickles Janet mos' ter death, but it do make Mis' 'Livy rippin'. An' den 'way back yander jes' after de wah, w'en de ole Carteret mansion had ter be sol', Adam Miller bought it, an' dis yer Janet an' her husban' is be'n livin' in it ever sence ole Adam died, 'bout a year ago; an' dat makes de majah mad, 'ca'se he don' wanter see cullud folks livin' in de ole fam'ly mansion w'at he wuz bawn in.
"Miss Laura," she sobbed, "an' Colonel French, my husban' Bud is done gone and got inter mo' trouble. He's run away f'm Mistah Fettuhs, w'at he wuz sol' back to in de spring, an' he's done be'n fine' fifty dollahs mo', an' he's gwine ter be sol' back ter Mistah Fettuhs in de mawnin', fer ter finish out de ole fine and wo'k out de new one.
Preparation, I think, is necessary to get at the facts." Then he faced the woman who had taken a chair beside the desk. "Your full name, please," said he. "Honora Dwyer. I'm a widow with four children; I live at 71 Cormant Street, an' me husban' has been dead these three years," declared she, in a breath. Stillman smiled. "You don't believe in keeping anything back, Mrs.
No mo' niggerisms fer me, ma'am!" "Hold your tongue, Ca'line," said Mrs. Lightfoot, sternly; "and, Rhody, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to talk so before your Miss Betty." "Husban', huh!" repeated the indignant Ca'line, under her breath. "Hold your tongues, both of you," cried the old lady, as she lifted her silk skirt in both hands and swept from the kitchen.
She takes one bite ob it, an' den she frows it at his head, an' sings out: 'Is you 'spectin' me to gib dat apple to yer Uncle Adam an' gib him de colic? Den de debbil he fotch her a lady-apple, but she say she won't take no sich triflin' nubbins as dat to her husban', an' she took one bite ob it, an' frew it away.
A widder what hez ben so happy that she gits lonesome whiles thinkin' of her departed, hez a right t' find a second husban'." Mrs. Brewster choked a laugh as she saw the sublime look in the help's" eyes, and hurried out. Eleanor then suggested: "Now you run away and beautify yourself, Sary, and I will wash the dishes to-night."
He walked rapidly away, leaving Gordon and Peggy face to face. "There y'are," she said, "what did I tell ye? Husban'? He's no husban' o' mine. Ye're makin' a mistake, Charlie." Charlie looked after the retreating bushman, and back at the good lady who was beaming at him. "Don't call me Charlie," he said. "That old man has come in for a whole lot of money in England.
"'Well, sezee, 'yo' husban' Dan wuz down by my cabin dis ebenin', en he got bit by a spider er sump'n, en his foot is swoll' up so he can't walk. En he ax' me fer ter fin' you en fetch you down dere ter he'p 'im home. "Co'se Mahaly wanter see w'at had happen' ter Dan, en so she sta'ted down de road wid de cunjuh man.
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