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Updated: May 29, 2025
Bein' likkered plenty, I nevah thought 'bout gittin' beat up mahse'f. "W'en I gits back, dere was a big Limey stahndin' wid his arms crost de do'. 'All dem in, stay in, an' all de outs stay out, he say. "Now I be'n trained to respec' white folks what is white folks ever sence I bawn; but w'en I think 'bout Jack in dere, hahf dead, mebbe, dat Limey don't look none too white to me.
Am dat a fact?" "It sure is. I don't want to see those things happen to you, Rad." Slowly the old colored man shook his head. "I don't mahse'f," he said. "I I guess I won't go." Eradicate did not stop to ask how Tom and Ned proposed to combat these two species of insects. But there remained Koku to dispose of, and he stood smiling broadly as Eradicate shuffled of.
"Certainly, Rad." "An' is yo' 'scuse me but is yo' expectin' me fo' t' follow yo'?" "Certainly, Rad." "Den, all I's got t' say is dat yo' is 'spectin' too much. I ain't gwine t' bury mahse'f alive not yit." "But, Rad, this is where the gold images are. If you don't come down with us you won't get any gold." "Am dat so? No gold?" The colored man scratched his head.
"Very well, then," said his honor, "I'll assign a lawyer to defend you." "Oh, no, suh; no, suh! Please don't do dat!" the darky begged. "Why not?" asked the judge. "It won't cost you anything. Why don't you want a lawyer?" "Well, jedge, Ah'll tell you, suh," said the old man, waving his tattered old hat confidentially. "Hit's dis way. Ah wan' tah enjoy dem chickens mahse'f."
"Get out your mule, and go for Dr. Gladby. If he isn't home, get Dr. Kurtz. Hurry, Rad!" "I's mighty sorry, Massa Tom," answered the colored man, "but I cain't hurry, nohow." "Why not?" "Because Boomerang done gone lame, an' he won't run. I'll go mahse'f, but I cain't take dat air mule." "Never mind. I'll go in the Butterfly," decided Tom quickly.
"I been dreadin' dis moment, whenas you firs' see Marse Wes in his anger. Zenas an' me, we's use to it. Marse Wes dataway; som'n go wrong he fly off de handle. Zenas ain't mislay no pitchfo'k I seed Marse Wes mahse'f wid dat pitchfo'k dis mawnin'. But eve'y once in a while he git a temper fit an' blow off he mouf like dat. Sometimes he strike some-buddy but he doan often strike Zenas.
"I dunno jes how ole I ez. I wuz baw'n 'yer in Nashville, durin' slabery. I must be way pas' 90 fer I member de Yankee soldiers well. De chilluns called dem de 'blue mans. Mah white folks wuz named Crockett. Dr. Crockett wuz our marster but I don't member 'im mahse'f. He d'ed w'en I wuz small. Mah marster wuz mean ter mah mammy w'en her oler chilluns would run 'way.
But it w'an't mahfaulta-tall!" "I know it wasn't," said Dorothy's mother. "But do you think you could get the little girl's Lamb's back?" "Well, dat coal hole isn't so very big," was the answer, as the driver scratched his kinky head. "But I might squeeze mahse'f down in it."
I'm ashamed to acknowledge so much interest in a horse-race, but it seems as if I can't wait to hear of the result." "Lawsy, I don't blame you, none; feel dat way mahse'f." "I must know the result the instant the race is decided." "Send yo' wuhd right off, Miss 'Lethe." "Oh, I can't wait for that.
I cook him a scrumptuous supper, an' dat night go down in mah trunk an' git out mah mournin' clothes an' mah funeral hat, an' cry mahse'f to sleep. An' what you reckon! From dat ve'y day he's been sprier'n he ever wuz! Jest wait till I ketch some of dem 'surance men 'bout heah agin!" With a deep sigh she rose laboriously and started back around the house. "Where's Dale?"
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