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Updated: May 31, 2025
He's mighty busy gits a heap er practice, makes a heap er money. He went down the river onct, more'n a hunderd miles, ter cut somethin' off a man I fawgits what 'twas an' the man paid him hunderds an' hunderds an' hunderds I fawgits how much 'twas." Here Little Lizay found that Alston was no longer listening, but was absorbed with the cotton-picking.
I ain't tuck a sol'tary lock er Als'on's cotton; an' I wouldn't, nuther, ter save my life." "Reckon yer kin fool me?" demanded the triumphant Edny Ann. Then she called Alston with the O which Southerners inevitably prefix: "O Als'on! O Als'on! come yere! quick!" "Don't, please don't, tell him," Little Lizay pleaded. "I'll give yer my new cal'ker dress ef yer won't tell nobody."
An occasional woman patched or washed some garment by the firelight, while others brought water in piggins from the spring at the foot of the hill on whose brow "the quarter" was located. As Alston sat outside his door on a block, eating his supper by the light of the high-mounting flames of his cabin-fire, Little Lizay came out and sat on her doorsill. Her cabin stood opposite his.
You see, I believe in you, my man." "Thanky, moster. I'll wuck fer yer haud's I kin. Please God, I'll sarve yer faithful." "Of cou'se, Lizay, you'll go back to pickin' cotton, an' don't let me hear any mo' of you' nonsense helpin' a strappin' fellow twice you' size. An' tell Buck I won't have him whippin' any my negroes ev'ry night in the week. Confound it! a mule couldn't stan' it.
Over and over again he had settled it: it was madness for the slave to oppose himself to the dominant white man. So, after his first unreasoning recoil, his mind was decided to adminster the flogging. Would it not be a mercy to Little Lizay for him to do this rather than that other hand, energized by hate, revenge and cruelty?
Oh, Lizay, thar' never was nobody afo' would er done this yer fer me," Alston said, feeling that he would like to kiss the poor shoulders that had been scourged for him. Great tears gathered in his eyes, and he thought without speaking the thought, "My wife in Virginny wouldn't er done it." "So yer mus' lemme he'p yer ter-day," said Little Lizay. "I'll die fus'," he said in a savage tone.
"Ef yer deny it, Lizay, yer'll make it wusser." Then Alston went up close to her, so that Edny Ann might not hear, and said something in a low tone. Lizay gave him a swift look of surprise: then her lip began to quiver; the quick tears came to her eyes; she put both hands to her face and cried hard, so that she could not have found voice if she had wished to tell Alston her story.
But to-night there was a new sensation: the slaves were on the qui vive to see Little Lizay flogged, and to find out whose hand was to wield the whip. "Now hurry up yere, yer lazy raskels! an' git yer floggin'," Mr. Buck said when the weighing was over. From right and left and front and rear negroes came forward and stood, a motley group, before the one white man.
He was also a good table-waiter, and had served in the dining-room when there were guests. So it came that though properly a field-hand, yet in manner and speech he showed to advantage beside the slaves who were exclusively field-hands. Little Lizay too occupied a halfway place between these and the better-spoken, gentler-mannered house-servants.
Buck resented it that Lizay should rebuff him and encourage Alston; so he hoped that for this once, at any rate, she would fall behind: he had thought of a capital plan of revenging himself on her. The next moment after her whispered appeal Lizay saw with intense interest Alston's basket brought forward for weighing. She glanced at him.
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