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Updated: May 19, 2025
Den yo' take one side to Aunt Maria an' be mighty perlite." Lijah, he don' like dis nohow, but he done what his wife tole him. He tote dat side of hawg to Aunt Maria, an' she smile wicked when she see him comin'. "I brung yo' a side of nice hawg what I jes' kill't," says he perlite. "I sho's mighty bleeged," sez Aunt Maria. "I kin use a bit of hawg meat. An' how is yo' gittin' 'long?"
He don' know what happened to it, but he kinda s'picioned. De nex' day w'en he wuz a-goin' down de road, 'long comes Aunt Maria ag'in. "Mawnin'," says Aunt Maria. "Mawnin'," says Lijah, kinda scaihed-like. Dat was all dey said. Aunt Maria, she laugh an' go 'long, an' Lijah, he don' lak de soun'. Dat night nuffin' happen, an' Lijah, he feel bettah.
She was always right there; yes, you knew just where to find her like a plain flower. 'Lijah's worthy enough; I do esteem 'Lijah, but he's a ploddin' man." XXI. The Backward View
Lijah was nigh wo'n out w'en he come to his house. He opens the doh quick an' slams it shut; den he heahs de cat a-scratchin' on de doh an kinda' sniffin' 'bout, an' Lijah, he lays down on de bed plumb wo'n out. In de mawnin' he tell his wife all 'bout it. She sez nothin' fo' a while but jes' set a-figgerin'. Den she sez, "Yo' one fool, niggah. Go an' kill de bes' hawg an' cut him up.
He wants to make a basque relief out o' one o' them photographs of my 'Lijah. But I don't know as I'll let him. Would you?" A smile trembled about the corners of Elsie's lips, and she carefully avoided the glance of Lottie's eyes, which she knew were dancing with fun, while there was a half-suppressed titter from the girls at the table.
Sore is my heart and bent my stubborn pride, With Lijah and with Lisha am I tied, My soul recoyles like Cora Doctor's Wife, Like her I feer I cannot bare this life. I am going to try for the speling prize but fear I cannot get it. I would not care but wrong speling looks dreadful in poetry.
Sho'nuf, 'bout twelve o'clock 'long comes somefin', an' quicker'n nothin' bof dem mules wuz out'n dey stalls an' away down de road. Lijah, he reckon he seed somefin' a-ridin' em, an' he know mighty well wat it wuz. In de mawnin' bof de mules was back ag'in, wo'n out, wid dey eahs droopin', and ag'in Lijah, he cain't do no wuk. Dat night he don' set up 'cose 'tain't no use.
This was Elijah, burning his early speed, jack-rabbiting ten lengths in front of his field, but beginning to notice his exertions and feel the swift pace. "'Lijah," remarked little Mose, looking back over his shoulder, "if eveh you finds a race track whut's got a short home stretch in it, you'll be 'notheh Roseben. Sutny will. On'iest trouble 'ith you, 'Lijah, 'em stretches built too long faw you.
"What fo' yo' goin'?" say de cat. "Ah bleeged to go home," say Lijah, an' he out's thu dat doh quicker'n nothin' wid de cat aftah him. Lijah, he run fo' his life. Bambye he catched up wid a rabbit a-lopin' along. "Outa' my way, rabbit," sez Lijah, "an' let somebody run wat kin run." An' all de time dat cat kep' right aftah him, an' he mos' feel its claws on his back.
I wish 'Lijah 'ud come our way some day, fer me an' Abraham hev often scraped the bottom of the flour barrel an' poured out the last drop of ile, not knowin' where any more was comin' from." "Tut, tut, woman!" remonstrated Mrs. Stickles. "It's wrong fer ye to talk that way. Hev ye ever really wanted? Didn't the flour and the ile come somehow?
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