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Updated: June 2, 2025
I remember now that I noticed, even from the corner, how brightly the house was illuminated, but at the time that didn't mean anything to me. I recall as I went up the steps and opened the door I murmured: "Nine times nine is eighty-one!" And then Gladolia met me in the hall. "Misto Hallock, de Missus sho t'inks you's lost!
"Misto Richmond," he said, with hesitancy and an entire change of tone and manner, "I am afeerd I ain't goin' to be able to pay you that little amount I owe you, but if you can give me a little mo' time "
I hunched Tom, and whispers: "You going, right here in the daybreak? THAT warn't the plan." "No, it warn't; but it's the plan NOW." So, drat him, we went along, but I didn't like it much. When we got in we couldn't hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure enough, and could see us; and he sings out: "Why, HUCK! En good LAN'! ain' dat Misto Tom?"
She faced fairly around now, and was full earnestness. "Has I had any trouble? Misto C , I's gwyne to tell you, den I leave it to you. I was bawn down 'mongst de slaves; I knows all 'bout slavery, 'case I ben one of 'em my own se'f. Well sah, my ole man dat's my husban' he was lov an' kind to me, jist as kind as you is to yo' own wife.
"Cantò l'armi pietòse e 'l capitanò Che 'l gran Sepòlerò liberò di Cristò; Mòltò egli òprò còl sennò e còn la manò, Mòltò sòffri nel glòriòsò acquistò; E invan l'infernò a lui s'òppòse; e invanò S'armò d'Asia e di Libia il pòpòl mistò; Che il ciel gli diè favòre, e sòttò ai santi Segni ridusse i suòi còmpagni erranti."
Our big men am tired to def dat Massa Reade stop do men from havin' a little liquor and playin' cairds evenin's." "Fine!" thought Tom, with a start. "If Sambo knew how close I am he'd carry out his orders right now! He has his pistol with him." "An' den, if dey's any fuss made," the black went on, "Misto Hazelton, he done gottah go nex'. Maybe Ah get cotch' w'en I do fo' Misto Reade.
Ef dat happen, den dere's anodder man ready to do fo' Misto Hazelton." "And maybe the second man will get caught, too," suggested Evarts. "Then there'll be two of you with nooses around your necks." "We maybe get cotch', an' put in de jail," smirked Sambo Ebony, "but doan' yo' beliebe nothin' worse happen. Dere ain' many guards at de jail, an' do gang is on de way.
Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond I left my specs at home." Without a smile, Bill began.
The captain beckoned Flitter Bill inside the store. His manner had a distinct savor of patronage. "Misto Richmond," he said, "I make you I appoint you, by the authority of Jefferson Davis and the Confederate States of Ameriky, as commissary-gineral of the Army of the Callahan." "As what?" Bill's eyes blinked at the astounding dignity of his commission.
They found a small Italian restaurant, free of local-color hounds and what Carl called "hobohemians," and discovered fritto misto and Chianti and zabaglione a pale-brown custard flavored like honey and served in tall, thin, curving glasses while the fat proprietress, in a red shawl and a large brooch, came to ask them, "Everyt'ing all-aright, eh?"
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