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Thar he is in his bunk, snorin’ like he was a steamboat; and marster’s asleep upstairs, I reckon. Well, ’tain’t no way to live. Things would go to rack and ruin if I didn’t sweat and work to keep ’em right end up, sartin." Aunt Dilsey was really a very valuable servant, and had some reason for thinking herself the main spoke in the wheel which kept her master’s household together.
So Wilmot advanced with some misgivings toward the negro and dog. He asked the negro if his master were at home. "No, sar, marster’s done gone away, but Miss Nancy, she’s at home. Jist walk right in thar, whar you see the pile of saddles in the entry." Accordingly, Mr. Wilmot "walked in where the pile of saddles were," and knocked at a side door.
Rondeau instantly started for home, where he was greeted by Aunt Dilsey with a torrent of abuse, that good lady rating him soundly for being gone too long. "Warn’t he ’shamed to be foolin’ away his time? ’Twan’t his time nuther, ’twas marster’s time. Was that ar fulfillin’ of Scripter, which says, ’we must be all eye sarvants,’ which means ye must all keep clus where yer marsters can see you?"
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