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Updated: June 25, 2025
Hit didn't turn out bad as I s'posed it would, bress tat ar son-in-law ob mine, but I keeps a tinkin' it all ober, an' I'se 'jected, I is; an' dar's no use ob shoutin' glory wen you doan feel glory." Then she told the whole story, which kept Ella on pins and needles, for, while she felt an honest sympathy for the poor soul, she had an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh.
"Well, honey, I reckon you'se ole nuss'll alers be do same ter you wheder she'se 'ligious or no." Both the girls now stood beside her, with a hand on either shoulder, and Ella said heartily, "Now, Aun' Sheba, it is just as you said, you're 'jected; you've got the blues, and everything looks blue and out of shape to you. You can't see the truth any more than if you were cross-eyed.
M. Letourneur, our French fellow-passenger, often has a chat with me. He is a fine tall man, about fifty years of age, with white hair and a grizzly beard. To say the truth, he looks older than he really is: his drooping head, his de- jected manner, and his eye, ever and again suffused with tears, indicate that he is haunted by some deep and abiding sorrow.
I neber 'jected to you marryin' any lady you like bes', an' 'tain't f'ar Mahs' Junius, now Ise ole an' gittin' on de careen, fur you to ax me wot I tinks about ole miss gwine away an' comin' back. I begs you, Mahs' Junius, don' ax me dat." Master Junius rose to his feet. "All right, Isham," he said; "I shall not worry your good old heart with questions." And he went into the house.
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