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Updated: June 23, 2025
"I ask you, if the stranger may not be a dozen tons larger or smaller than what you have named?" continued the Rover, when he found his former question was not likely to be soon answered. "He'm just as masser wish 'em," returned Scipio. "I wish him a thousand; since he will then prove the richer prize." "I s'pose he'm quite a t'ousand, sir."
The negro answered with the slow clipping manner that characterized his condition and years. "He'm werry wakeful, Masser Al'erman. I t'ink he no sleep half he time, lately. All he a'tiverty and wiwacerty gone, an' he do no single t'ing but smoke. A gentle'um who smoke alway, Masser Al'erman, get to be a melercholy man, at last. I do t'ink 'ere be one young lady in York who be he deat', some time!"
About a hundred years, Neb just one hundred and seven, I believe; to be accurate." "And how long a Clawbonny family, at 'e same time, Masser Mile?" "Upon my word, Neb, your pedigree is a little confused, and I cannot answer quite as certainly. Eighty or ninety, though, I should think, at least; and, possibly a hundred, too. Let me see you called old Pompey your grand-father; did you not, Neb?"
But has he signals abroad?" "He'm got t'ree new cloths in he maintop-gallant royal, sir." "His vessel is all the better for the repairs. Did you see his flags?" "He'm show no flag, masser." "I thought as much myself. Go forward, lad stay one often gets a true idea by seeking it where it is not thought to exist. Of what size do you take the stranger to be?"
"Sart'in berry good grandfader, too, Masser Mile. Ole Pomp a won'erful black!" "Oh! I say nothing touching the quality I dare say he was as good as another. Well, I think that I have heard old Pompey's grandfather was an imported Guinea, and that he was purchased by my great-grandfather about the year 1700." "Dat just as good as gospel! Who want to make up lie about poor debble of nigger?
"Have a care lest you let the man fall into the sea!" cried Wilder sternly, from his stand on the distant poop. "He'm tailor, masser Harry," returned the black, without altering a muscle; "if a clothes no 'trong, he nobody blame but heself." During this brief parlance, the good-man Homespun had safely arrived at the termination of his lofty flight.
Here another burst of loud, hearty "yah yah yahs succeeded; and Yaap had his laugh out before another word could be got out of him, when I put the question a third time. "Well, den, Masser Corny, sin' you will know, dis is my mind. Dis country is oncomparable wid our ole county sah.
As for Jovial, he dropped lap-dogs, bird-cages, carpetbags and umbrellas plump upon the hall floor, and rushed into the drawing-room, exclaiming: "Masser, it's an invasion of de Goffs and Wandalls, or some other sich furriners! And I think the milishy ought to be called out." "Don't be a fool, if you please.
"La famille de Barbérie est honorable, Monsieur mais le Grand Monarque fut un pen trop exigeant. Vraiment, la dragonade était mal avisée, pour faire des chrétiens!" "Apoplexies and hurry! you should have sent for the farrier to administer to the sufferer, thou black hound!" "'Em go for a butcher, Masser, to save he skin; for he war' too soon dead." The word dead produced a sudden pause.
What good it do a nigger to captivate an Injin, if he let him go ag'in, and don't lick him little? Only little, Masser Corny. Ebbery t'ing so handy too, sah rope all ready, back bare, and feelin' up, like, after such a time in takin' 'e varmint, sah!" "Well, Jaap, what is done, is done, and there is no use in regretting it, in words.
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