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'a bird in dis han' am worf two dozen in a bush, as my ole masta used to say, wen de traders cum up to buy his corn an' cotton, an' I always sawed de dollars come down mighty quick after dat sayin' of his'n; for I used to watch round the dinin'-room pretty constant an' close in dem days, totin' in poplar-chips an' corn-cobs for kin'lin' an' litin' masta's long clay pipes none ob de common sort, I tells you an' brushin' up de harf an' keepin' off' de flies, and so forf.
He's one ob dem young wite sort wat lubs de card-table, an' don't scriminate atween ole an' young folks. You see, he's my masta's nevy for de ole folks had no chillun but Miss May Jane, an' she's bin dead dis fifteen yeer, and bofe her chilluns dun follered her to de grabe, so dere is only Miss Polly Ann lef, and "
Now I reckon dey would bring enough bright silver dollars at a juglar's shop to buy my ole man twice over agin! He is but porely, and our chilluns is all dead and gone, anyway, all but one, way down in New Orleans, an' ef I could git his free papers he might come here and jine his wife in freedom, even if Massa Jack Dillard did heir masta's estate.
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