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Updated: June 15, 2025
Ephum put down the duster, peered out of the door of the private office, and closed it softly. "Marse Comyn?" "Yes?" "Marse Comyn, I ain't got no use fo' dat Misteh Hoppa', Ise kinder sup'stitious 'bout him, Marsa." The Colonel put down his newspaper. "Has he treated you badly, Ephum?" he asked quietly. The faithful negro saw another question in his master's face.
The duty of receiving Mr. Johnson fell upon Mrs. Farragut, because Bella, in another room, was scrambling wildly into her best gown. The fat old woman met him with a great ivory smile, sweeping back with the door, and bowing low. "Walk in, Misteh Johnson, walk in. How is you dis ebenin', Misteh Johnson how is you?"
Pete, who was very dirty, being at work in a potato-patch, responded in a mixture of abasement and appreciation "Good-evenin', Misteh Johnsing." The shimmering blue of the electric arc lamps was strong in the main street of the town. At numerous points it was conquered by the orange glare of the outnumbering gaslights in the windows of shops.
I don' seem to place you, jock. Where you been ridin'? East?" "I ain't a jock. I'm only gallopin' 'em. Who are you?" "Jockey Jones, whut rides faw Misteh Curry. If you ain't a jock, you sutny ought to be. You don't set a hawss like no exercise boy. Thass why I mistook you faw Walsh." "What horse is that?" "This jus' one 'em Curry beetles. Whut you got, jock?" "Zanzibar." "Any good?"
Bentley, "I have brought home a gentleman for supper." "Yassah, Misteh Ho'ace. I was jest agwine to open up de blin's." He lifted the wire screens and flung back the shutters, beamed on the rector as he relieved him of his hat, and noiselessly retired.
Old Chloe she was my black mammy, you know had a grown daughter of her own, and her effort to dispose of her 'M'randy' was a standing joke in the family. In answer to my stereotyped question she stood back and folded her arms. 'Naw, honey; dat M'randy ain't ma'ied yit. She gwine be des lak you; look pretty, an' say, Howdy! Misteh Jawnson, an' go 'long by awn turrer side de road."
Ephum put down the duster, peered out of the door of the private office, and closed it softly. "Marse Comyn?" "Yes?" "Marse Comyn, I ain't got no use fo' dat Misteh Hoppa', Ise kinder sup'stitious 'bout him, Marsa." The Colonel put down his newspaper. "Has he treated you badly, Ephum?" he asked quietly. The faithful negro saw another question in his master's face.
I wondered at the test of my endurance then. I know now it was to prepare me for Thaine's time of service for his country." "I done remember, all right, 'bout that time in ol' Virginia, an' the day I taken you the letteh up in the little glen behind the ol' mansion house whah hit wah so cool and the watah's so cleah. Misteh Horace wah home that day, too.
Misteh Winton, that is your train. I wish you good-morning and a pleasant journey. Come, Virginia, we shall be late to ouh breakfast." Winton walked back to the station at the heels of his captor, cudgeling his brain to devise some means of getting word to Adams.
In the next it will probably be Richa'd Roe. You are fighting a losing battle, seh." Winton's smile showed his teeth. "That remains to be seen," he countered coolly. The Rajah waved a shapely hand toward the opposite embankment, where the tracklayers were idling in silent groups waiting for some one in authority to tell them what to do. "We can do that every day, Misteh Winton.
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