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You better not let Boss ketch you off'n de place, less'n he give you a pass to go. My Boss didn' 'low us to go to church, er to pray er sing. Iffen he ketched us prayin' er singin' he whupped us. He better not ketch you with a book in yo' han'. Didn' 'low it. I doan know whut de reason was. Jess meanness, I reckin.
Put Greyfeather an’ his Pimas on ’em an’ then leg it till your belly’s near meetin’ your backbone an’ you is all one big tired ache. Iffen you kin drink sand an’ keep on footin’ it over red-hot rocks when you is nigh t’ a bag o’ bones, then maybe—jus’ maybe—you kin jump an Apache.
You may have all dis world, But give me Jesus. "Singin' an' shoutin', she had 'ligion all right. She b'longed to Old Farrett back in Missouri. Den iffen it didn' do no good, Miss Margurite called fer Dr. Hunt lak she done when her own chullun got sick. "None of de darkies on dat place could read an' write.
"Iffen Kirby here hadn’t been to hand, Johnny would have skinned th’ Trinfan kid with his quirt—jus’ ’cause he dropped his purse outside th’ Jacks an’ th’ kid followed him to give it back. Johnny’s meaner than a drunk Injun these days. That’s Bible-swear truth, Rennie." "To lose a war makes a man bitter," Don Cazar said slowly. "Johnny was far too young when he ran away to join Howard.
'Iffen you'll have de wimmen folks make us a pot full of dat cotton-seed and corn-meal, we'll be ready to go to work. And as long as I work fo' Colonel Harvey, one uv de bes' men whut ever lived, we always had cotton-seed and corn-meal to eat." Texarkana District FOLKLORE SUBJECTS Name of Interviewer: Mrs. W.M. Ball Subject: Anecdotes of an Aged Ex-Slave.
So they went on, me followin’. I’ll tell you one thing. This new hombre Shannon took up with, he was a real hard case. A short trigger man if I ever laid eye on one. Anyway we jus’ kept on, with me tryin’ to think iffen I should Injun up to git th’ drop on ’em or not.
His brow wrinkled, as though he were trying to express a thought for which he had no words. "Yo' notice dat, too, suh?" he asked. "Why, yessuh, Cunnel; Ah don' know 'zackly how t' say hit, but dey is som'n, at dat. Hit seems like ... like a kinda ... a kinda blessedness." He chuckled. "Dat's hit, Cunnel; dey's a blessedness. Wondeh iffen Ah's gittin' r'ligion, now?"
"Chris'mas time, we had two or three days to play, an' had extry food. "I seen 'pattyrollers' ridin' 'bout to keep de darkies from runnin' 'roun' widout passes. I never seen 'em whup none but dey tol' us we'd git twen'y-nine licks iffen we got caught by 'em. I seen darkies git whuppin's on other plantations whup 'em half a day sometimes, gen'ly when dey tried to run away.
An’ th’ stolen Mex hosses, they’s drove up here an’ maybe sold to some of th’ same fellas what lost th’ others. Hosses git themselves lost ’long them back-country trails, specially if they’s pushed hard. So them strays join up with th’ wild ones. Iffen a mustanger can rope him one an’ bring it in ... well, if it’s a good one, maybe so he’ll git a reward from th’ man what’s lost him.
Say, I don’t rightly know your name...." "Drew Kirby." "Wal, sure, Kirby, Tobe Kells is a man o’ his word. Iffen there’s any reason to think you’ll be needed, I’ll send Callie along for you. Callie!" At Kells’ hail a boy swung down the loft ladder. He was wiry thin, with a thick mop of sun-bleached hair and a flashing grin. At the sight of Shiloh and Shadow he whistled.
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