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Updated: June 22, 2025
"If we manage well, we have a good chance." "I hope we shall, for master would certainly sell us all if we should be caught." "Dat ud be wus as staying wid Massa Kun'l," added Cyd. "But I s'pect we won't be caught, Massa Dandy." "Why do you call me master, Cyd?" "Dis chile tink you cutting it rader fat." "What do you mean by that?"
"I didn't mean to do or say any thing that would make me seem like a master, for I hate the very sound of the word." "Hossifus!" exclaimed Cyd, gratified by this acknowledgment. "I done tink you meant to be my massa, jes like de kun'l. If dis chile jes as good you be, Cyd can't see why you don't tell what you do dese tings for."
The officer halted, and speaking more to all those within hearing than to the man, said: "You got as good as any of the Continental regiments, boys, and better than some." "That may be, kun'l," answered the complainant, "but how about the dandies?" "Yes," assented the officer. "We sent the French regiments all the flour and fresh meat the commissaries could lay hands on, I grant you.
"Thought! Thought! Why, ye never thought in your life. You only thought you thought. I dunno no more who you mean by 'Kun'l Gideon Ward' than as though you said General Bill Beelzebub." "Why, yas you do " "There you go again! Do you mean to stand here and tell me I'm a liar?" The glare in the seaman's eyes was too fierce to be fronted. "Kun'l Gideon Ward is is wall, he's Kun'l Gideon Ward."
Kettle, on reporting to the Colonel, said solemnly, "Kun'l, I ain't never goin' ter try an' enlist no mo', so help me Gord A'mighty. An' I ain't a'goin' to pay no more 'tention to the chaplain's sermons, 'cause 'twuz that there chaplain as fust got me in this here mess, cuss him!" This last was under Kettle's breath, and the Colonel pretended not to hear.
The yellow stripes down his legs and the sabre and sabretache were dazzling to Kettle, But an objection rose on the horizon. "How 'bout them hosses?" he asked, "I ain't never been on no hoss sence the time when I wuz a little shaver, and the Kun'l he wasn't nothin' but a lieutenant then wuz courtin' Miss Betty, and he pick me up and put me on a hoss he call Birdseye. Lord!
She looked at him appealingly for a moment, then tiptoed over the fragments of the gate, and hurried away through the bridge. "You ain't no iron-clad, Kun'l Ward," muttered Sproul. "I'll hold ye next time." He set to work on the river-bank that afternoon, cutting saplings, trusting to the squall of the faithful parrots to signal the approach of passers.
"What do you mean, Kettle, by bringing the baby out this time of night?" asked the surprised Anita. "I got him all wropped up warm," answered Kettle, apologetically, pointing to the After-Clap's white fur coat and cap. "But that chile knowed there wuz a hoss show on it's mighty little he doan' know, and after the Kun'l and Miss Betty lef', he begin' to cry for 'Horsey!
Old Squire Ward left his whole property to the two of 'em, and the Kun'l ain't ever let it be divided. He runs the whole estate and domineers over her, and she don't dast to say her soul's her own. If I was Jane I'd have my half out and git married to some nice man, and git a little comfort out'n life. He don't give her none don't let her have the handlin' of a cent of money.
"But I say," replied Kettle, spurred by fear, "you is a deceiver, suh a deceiver, and I'm a'goin to tell the Kun'l on you and he'll do for you that he will."
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