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Updated: July 16, 2025
She sez, sorter sharp-like, 'The only way to make a farm pay is to stock it with somethin' besides children. That made me a leetle mad, so I up an' sez back to her: 'I wouldn't swap my seven children fer all the hogs an' cattle in the state o' Indianny. So she sez, kind o' grinnin', 'Well, I'll bet your wife would jump at the chance to trade your NEXT seven children, sight onseen, fer a new pair o' shoes er that bonnet she's been wantin' ever sence she got married. That sorter mixed me up.
I have seen old covered wagons pulled by oxen travelling on the road going to Indianny and us children was whipped to keep us away from the road for fear they would steal us." Bibliography: Interview with George Henderson, Ex-slave. Garrard County. Ex-Slave Stories.
"That is all right," said the stranger, with an air of satisfaction. "The 200th Indianny is a very good regiment. I saw them whip John Morgan's cavalry at Green River. Clumsy farmer boys, but shoot like born devils." "But who are you, and where did you come from?" repeated Si impatiently. "I'm all right. I'm Levi Rosenbaum of Gen. Rosecrans's secret service. I got some news for him."
Anybody'd catch on to that Indianny lingo first thing. You've got to speak like an educated man speak like I do to keep people from finding out where you're from. I speak correct English always. Nobody can tell where I'm from." The boys had hard work controlling their risibles over Mr. Rosenbaum's self-complacency. "What clothes are we to wear, then?" asked Si, much puzzled.
Dan Bugher, he's the county recorder, an' Rube Kelsey, John Bishop, Larry Stockton, an' a lot more of the folks up in town, have been lookin' down the Crawfordsville road fer you ever since your father died last August. You 'pear to be a very important cuss fer one who ain't never set foot in Indianny before." "I see," said the other reflectively. "Were you acquainted with my father, Mr. Striker?"
He's got folks out to Indianny, an' we sot out fur to go a-cousinin', five year back, an' we got out there inter the dre'fullest woodsy region ever ye see, where 'twa'n't trees, it was 'sketers; husband he couldn't see none out of his eyes for a hull day, and I thought I should caterpillar every time I heerd one of 'em toot; they sartainly was the beater-ee!" "The key, if you please!"
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