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Updated: June 24, 2025
The old dame remembered this, and on my first visit home and to her, and on all succeeding visits, treated me to a brew of my favorite. "Jess the same, Mahs William. Come from Mr. Blar's jess the same." But we become sophisticated in time. I found that Mammy's tea lingered in my memory, it is true; and the prospect of a recurrence very nearly operated against future visits.
His heart beat so hard in his throat he thought he would surely die before he could reach the cabin. At every step the light seemed to be growing dimmer and the thicket denser, although he thought he certainly must have been running long enough to have reached the clearing. Still he ran on, and on, and on. The recollection of one of Mammy's stories flashed across his mind.
The light, the music, and the perfume made the place seem enchanted ground to the bewildered little John Jay, and when he reached the illuminated fountain just in front of the house, he clung to Mammy's skirts as if he had suddenly found himself in some strange Eden, and was frightened by its unearthly beauty.
"I was just wondering if you had forgotten how to make those good ash-cakes." "Now, jes' listen to de chile, makin' game o' his ole Mammy!" she exclaimed. "Livin' so high wid all dem hifalutin' kings an' queens an' sech, an' den comin' back here an' makin' ten' he wouldn' 'spise Mammy's ash-cakes!" "I'm in dead earnest, Mammy. Indeed, indeed and double deed, I am.
"I seed yer eat er squ'l or two, an' er few fish, likely; an' dem, wid er sprinklin' uv roas'n yurs an' cakes, wuz de mos' wat I seed yer eat." "An' dat wuz too much," said Mammy, "right befo' de gemmuns." But Dumps was comforted at Uncle Bob's moderate statement of the case, and so Mammy's lecture lost much of its intended severity.
Wilkins, but I don't need any assistance when I am prospering as I now am." "That's right, Pratt!" exclaimed Quirk, with an encouraging wink; "pick up your cards, and show 'em you ain't to be nosed around by anybody, and that you didn't come so many hundred miles from home tied fast by your mammy's long apron-string." "Had I known this was your intention, Mr.
Ain't the good cause precious to your soul no mo' sence you to'd loose f'om your mammy's apron-string?" Tom's shrewd overlooking of the horse-trader spoke eloquently of the spiritual landmarks past and left behind. "I don't know about you, Japhe.
Gilcrest, the mistress was frail of health and unassertive by nature, the black mammy's authority became almost paramount. And such was the nature of Dilsey's authority. Silas Gilcrest, Hiram's father, had bought Dilsey from a Massachusetts slave-ship when she was a child of twelve years. She was just from Africa, and could not speak a word of English.
Dave would whup the preacher, but the gal he is a goin' to marry told him he shouldn't. Say, Jasper, I was on my way down to Smithfield, an' I didn't know but you mout want suthin' fotch from down thar." "No, ain't a hurtin' fur nothin' at the present. Lemme see. Yes, I want you to give a order to the stone-cutter for a tombstone for mammy's grave." "How big?" "Oh, 'bout three feet by six."
Mammy's financial skill and resource in imagination condoned everything. It is painful to record that Mammy, encouraged by immunity from inquiry and investigation, no doubt, was tempted, as thousands of her betters have been and will be, and yielded under subsequent and similar circumstances.
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