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Updated: May 21, 2025
"I ain' losin' one ner 'tothah, but I do' see no ha'm in gwine ovah to de wes' plantation." "You do' see no ha'm in gwine ovah to de wes' plantation! You stan' hyeah in sight o' Gawd an' say dat?" "Don't git so 'cited, sis' Lize, you mus' membah dat dey's souls on de wes' plantation, jes' same as dey is on de eas'." "Yes, an' dey's souls in hell, too," the old woman fired back.
W'y, Sis' Jane Callender done daid an' gone to glory too long 'go fu' to talk erbout." "Then you admit to the court that your name is not Jane Callender?" "Wha's de use o' my 'mittin', don' you know it yo'se'f, suh? Has I got to come hyeah at dis late day an' p'ove my name an' redentify befo' my ol' Miss's own chile? Mas' Bob, I nevah did t'ink you'd ac' dat away.
"Preachah er no preachah, you hyeah what I say," and he took the possum, and put it on the highest shelf. "Wha's de mattah wid you, Jim; dat's one o' de' 'quiahments o' de chu'ch." The angry man turned to the preacher. "Is it one o' de 'quiahments o' de chu'ch dat you eat hyeah ter-night?" "Hit sholy am usual fu' de shepherd to sup wherevah he stop," said Parker suavely.
How you come on? Oh, I was des a-sayin' how de wo'k of de ol' boy do p'ospah. Doesn't I frequent the racetrack? No, suh; no, suh. I's Baptis' myse'f, an' I 'low hit's all devil's doin's. Wouldn't 'a' be'n hyeah to-day, but I got a boy named Jim dat's long gone in sin an' he gwine ride one dem hosses. Oomph, dat boy!
"No, I'm not, Mammy Peggy, but I do wish that I could traffic in some of my too numerous and too genteel ancestors instead of being compelled to dispose of my ancestral home and be turned out into the street like a pauper." "Heish, honey, heish, I can' stan' to hyeah you talk dat-away.
Mas' Madison Mixon, hisse'f, was a mighty 'dulgent so't o' man, an' he liked a laugh bettah dan anyone in de worl'. Well, my man could mek him laugh, an' dat was enough fu' him. I used to lectuah dat man much 'bout his onshifless ways, but he des went erlong, twell bimeby hyeah come de wah an' evahthing was broke up.
She's a favourwright too; but dey's sumpin' else in dis worl' sides playin' favourwrights. Jim bettah had win dis race. His hoss ain't a five to one shot, but I spec's to go way fum hyeah wid money ernuff to mek a donation on de pa'sonage. "Does I bet? Well, I don' des call hit bettin'; but I resks a little w'en I t'inks I kin he'p de cause.
What ou say, Bobby Fairfax? What you call me dat fu'? My name Aunt Dicey to you an' I want you to un'erstan' dat right hyeah. Ef you keep on foolin' wid me, I 'spec' my patience gwine waih claih out." "Excuse me. Well, Aunt Dicey, why did you take the name of Jane Callender if your name is really Dicey Fairfax?" "W'y, I done tol' you, Bobby, dat Sis' Jane Callender was des' my bus'ness name."
All the men had something and tapped rims with the visitor. "'Pears to me you people is mighty clevah up hyeah; 'tain' no wondah Zachariah don' wan' to come home." Just then they heard a loud whoop outside the door, and a voice broke in upon them singing thickly, "Oh, this spo'tin' life is surely killin' me." The men exchanged startled glances.
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