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Updated: June 2, 2025
Then the ol' home kotched afire an' then me'n Miss Ann didn't have no sho' 'nough home an' we got ter visitin' roun' an' Marse Bob, yo' gran'pap, kep a pleadin' an' Miss Ann she kep' a visitin', fust one place then anudder, an' Marse Bob he got kinder tired a followin' aroun' takin' our dus' an' befo' you knowd it he done tramsfered his infections ter yo' gran'mammy, an' a nice lady she wa', but can't none er them hol' a can'le ter my Miss Ann, then or now 'cept'n maybe that purty red-headed gal what goes a whizzin' aroun' the county an' don't drap her eyes fer nobody.
"You stayin' wib Uncle Eb?" he asked. "I seed yer yes' day. I done hear yer start a sto." "A what?" Pee-wee asked, as they walked along together. "A sto you sell eats, hey?" "Oh, you mean a store," Pee-wee said. "I help you," said the lanky stranger; "me'n Pepsy, we good friends. She hab to go back to dat workhouse, de bridge it say so. Dat bridge am a sperrit." "You're crazy," Pee-wee said.
Sometimes I plowed in de fiel' all day; sometimes I washed an' den I cooked, an' afte' 'while, we moved down to de new town. I come here when dis town fust started. I cooked fer Mrs. Badenhauser, while he was mayor of de town. Dey worked me hard. Me'n Jake's had some hard ups an' downs. I had fo' chullun, none of dem livin' dat I know of.
Big Medicine roared cheerfully, inspecting a battered plug of "chewin'" to see where was the most inviting corner in which to set his teeth. "Me'n' trouble has locked horns more'n once, 'n' I'd feel right lonesome if I thought our trails'd never cross agin.
Lemme go Dicky; me'n yer daddy war pards. Lemme go. Yer paw an' me won't bother ye no more Dicky; he can't; he's dead." "Dead!" Dick released his grasp and the other sprang to a safe distance. "Dead!" He gazed at the quaking wretch before him in amazement. The tramp nodded sullenly, feeling at his throat. "Yep, dead," he said hoarsely. "Me an' him war bummin' a freight out o' St.
"Morgan's shot hisself, 'n they sent us fer yer, me'n Hank, he's out there," with a backward jerk of his thumb over his shoulder toward the open door. Houston sprang to the door; another boy was talking excitedly with Van Dorn, while his horse stood, panting heavily and covered with dust and foam.
An' when me'n de ole man come home from de funeral dey buried him in de white folks' buryin'-groun, long side o' Miss May's little gal what died an' put a tombstone at de head when we come home from de funeral dat night, de ole man look at de baby on my lap an' he say, 'Delphy, honey, he say, 'I think disher baby mout be name Grief. An' we name him Grief."
Did I ever tell you the time me'n' her " But Harriet, with a preoccupied air, had turned away. Westerfelt went back to the stable and ordered Jake to get out his horse and buggy. Washburn watched him over the back of the mule he was hitching to a spring wagon and smiled. "Got it in the neck that pop!" he murmured.
"Ain't I though!" said Maverick with a snarl and an oath, the hatred and wrath increasing in his face; "Me'n him has got an old score to settle yet. I only wisht he was a goin' ter be in them mines this afternoon. When's he comin'?" "I don't know," answered Haight shortly, "probably before very long though." "When you git word he's comin' I wan'ter know it, that's all," growled Maverick.
She'd 'a' been talkin' till now if I hadn't traded: Besides, betwixt me'n you, she give me a scare; you see I was afraid the thing would slip through my fingers, fer she set in to talkin' about havin' it moved to t'other side o' the square and rentin' it fer a barber-shop, an' she 'lowed, too, that it would be a bang-up thing to sell to a convict-camp to keep chain-gang prisoners in.
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