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Updated: June 19, 2025
Dem folks won't fergit, an' 'Gena won't nebber be safe ennywhar dat dey kin come, night ner day. What will I do, Miss Mollie, what will I do? Yer knows Nimbus 'll 'llow fer 'Gena ter take keer ob herself an' de chillen an' de plantation, till he comes back, er sends fer me, an' I dassent stay, not 'nudder day, Miss Mollie! What'll I do? What'll I do?"
"I never wrote as long a letter as this before, and never 'llow to do it again. "Your true friend, In due time there came to Hesden Le Moyne an envelope, containing only a quaintly-shaped card, which looked as if it had been cut from the bark of a brown-birch tree. On one side was printed, in delicate script characters, "Miss Mollie Ainslie, Eupolia, Kansas."
Mahch, he was bereft o' any way to fetch her to he's maw less'n he taken her up behime o' his saddle, an' so it seem' like the Lawd's call faw us to come right along an' bring her hencefah, an' then, if she an' his maw fin' theyse'ves agreeable, then Mr. Mahch which his buggy happn to be here in Suez 'llow to give her his transpotes the balance o' the way to-morrow in hit."
"Co'se I'd like ter know jes whar Nimbus is, but I know he's all right. I'se a heap fearder 'bout Bre'er 'Liab, fer I 'llow it's jes which an' t'other ef we ever sees him again. But what troubles me now, Miss Mollie, is 'bout myseff." "About yourself?" asked Mollie, in surprise. "'Bout me an' my chillens, Miss Mollie," was the reply. "Why, how is that, 'Gena?"
"Should t'ink yer did," said the colored woman, gazing at her in admiring wonder. "I don't 'llow dar's ennybody come inter dis yer house in one while, dat yer didn't know all 'bout 'em widout settin' eyes on 'em. I wouldn't be at all s'prised, dat I wouldn't," said she to the young lady, "ter find dat she knows whose h'yer now, an' whose been h'yer ebbery day sence Marse Hesden's been so busy.
And he clambered to the saddle again, called to the negroes to come on astern, and set forth again towards the house, and as I rejoined my party among the trees I heard his jolly voice ringing out: "I 'llow this crazy hull o' mine At sea has had its share; Marooned three times an' wounded nine, An' blowed up in the air."
No seh, cayn't 'zac'ly tell jis how long we be kep' here, but 'f you dislikes to wait, Cap, you needn'. You kin teck a street-cyar here what'll lan' you right down 'mongs' de hotels an' things; yass, seh. See what; de wreck? No, seh, it's up in de yard whah dey don't 'llow you to pa-ass." Out in the darkness beside the train March stood a moment.
"I don't know nuthin' 'bout all them colors in his eyes. I don't know nuthin' 'bout that," she repeated, "but I do 'llow he smoked them vile cigarettes till a body couldn't breathe!" Jane's eyes left the mother of nine, swept past Nancy whom she saw still bending over her work, and finally rested in the shadows of some cool ferns.
"I'm with you, Bill," remarked Pete Williamson, "an' mebbe we can snatch their hosses, just to show'em how it feels." The third man lifted up his voice. "I 'llow I've had enough of this here kind of thing," said he, "an' I'll get back to the settlement while there's anything for me to get there on.
"Nope; an' I've come to say I'm ready to give up! My hound says thar ain't a smell of 'im 'tween heah an' hell." "Then your hound lies; for I tell you he's around somewhere, an' not so very far off, either!" "Look-ee-heah," the sheriff raised half up in his chair, "I don't 'llow no man to call my hound a liar!" "Oh, sit down, Jess! Didn't I just tell you I know he's around somewhere?"
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