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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Good-by, dear Jools," continued the parson. "I'm in the Lord's haynds, and he's very merciful, which I hope and trust you'll find it out. Good-by!" the schooner swang slowly off before the breeze "good-by!" St.-Ange roused himself. "Posson Jone'! make me hany'ow dis promise: you never, never, never will come back to New Orleans." "Ah, Jools, the Lord willin', I'll never leave home again!"
"Mais, it was!" "No!" "It was me fault! I swear it was me fault! Mais, here is five hondred dollar'; I wish you shall take it. Here! I don't got no use for money. Oh, my faith! Posson Jone', you must not begin to cry some more." Parson Jones was choked with tears.
O Jools, if you'll look him out for me, I'll never forget you I'll never forget you, nohow, Jools. No, Jools, I never will believe he taken that money. Yes, I know all niggahs will steal" he set foot upon the gang-plank "but Colossus wouldn't steal from me. Good-by." "Misty Posson Jone," said St.-Ange, putting his hand on the parson's arm with genuine affection, "hol' on.
"If I could make jus' ONE bet," said the persuasive St.-Ange, "I would leave this place, fas'-fas', yes. If I had thing mais I did not soupspicion this from you, Posson Jone' " "Don't, Jools, don't!" "No! Posson Jone'." "You're bound to win?" said the parson, wavering. "Mais certainement! But it is not to win that I want; 'tis me conscien' me honor!"
"If I could make jus' one bet," said the persuasive St.-Ange, "I would leave this place, fas'-fas', yes. If I had thing mais I did not soupspicion this from you, Posson Jone'" "Don't, Jools, don't!" "No! Posson Jone'." "You're bound to win?" said the parson, wavering. "Mais certainement! But it is not to win that I want;'tis me conscien' me honor!" "Well, Jools, I hope I'm not a-doin' no wrong.
The little kitchen looked so cheerless and bare that dull morning that it reminded me again of a passage in that rude, racy song of the Lancashire weaver, "Jone o' Greenfeelt"
Winter time 'll try 'em up tightly. . . Wait there a bit," continued he, "I'll be with you again directly." He then went down into the cutting to speak to some of his men, whilst I walked about the edge of the bank. From a distant part of the moor, the bray of a jackass came faint upon the sleepy wind. "Yer tho', Jone," said one of the men, resting upon his spade; "another cally-weighver gone!"
What we did when we was in it was all very well, but that's past and gone, although I've said to Jone a good many more times than once that if I had to do this or that thing now, that's set down in the book, I'd do it different. But then he always answers that if I'd done that I'd have spoiled the story, and so there was no more to say on that subject.
Jackson an' the General, they came right up to us an' set down on a bench which was fastened between two trees near the wall. An' there they set, a-lookin' steady at us with their four little eyes, like four empty thimbles. "'You appear to be goin' away, says Mrs. Jackson. "'Yes, says Jone from the top of the wall. We're a-goin' to take a slight stroll outside, this salu-brious evenin'.
It was soon evident that, while Jonas was as tranquil as usual, Pomona had something on her mind that she had come with a purpose; and as soon as the inquiries and explanations were over, she addressed the Husband of Euphemia with great earnestness: "Jone and me came to see you, sir, about something particular; and as we are all friends here, I may as well say it right out."
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