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Updated: May 31, 2025
"She po'ly, Marse Dave, an' she ain' nebber leabe dis year house. Marse Dave," said Lindy earnestly, lowering her voice and taking a step closer to me, "I done reckon de Mistis gwine ter die ob lonesomeness. She des sit dar an' brood, an' brood an' she use' ter de bes' company, to de quality. No, sirree, Marse Dave, she ain' nebber sesso, but she tink 'bout de young Marsa night an' day.
"Fo' Mistis Temple," he said, and, looking at me queerly, he took off his cap as he jumped from the horse. Mistress Temple herself having arrived, he handed her the letter. She took it, and broke the seal carelessly. "Oh," she said, "it's only from Mr. Lowndes. I wonder what he wishes now." Every moment of her reading was for me an agony, and she read slowly. The last words she spoke aloud:
"Miss Mary's compliments and love, ma'am; and she says won't you please step in thar, and set with Mistis' friends and relations?" was the audible message delivered to her by Mrs. Trent's spry waiting-maid. Herbert looked dubious, and Mrs. Aylett enlarged her fine eyes in a manner that might mean either superciliousness or well-bred amazement.
"After dey moved camp de Marster sont me back home to he'p look after de Mistis an' chillun. De 'Federates had some cattle hid 'way in us pasture an' I looked after 'em. One night when I was comin' home I met 'bout a hund'ed Yankees comin' over a hill. Dey saw de cattle an' took 'bout ha'f of 'em. I skidooed. Dey aint kotched me yet. "After de war de Yankees called deyse'ves 'Publicans.
"What bring you to Jackson?" continued the old woman. Elsy repeated the tale she had told Dr. Humphries and Alfred, and after she had concluded, the old woman clasped her hands as she exclaimed, "Sake alibe! what become ob your mistis and de childen?" "I don't know, Auntie, but my New Orleans mass'r is here now, and I's been looking for dem."
So som good white fokes let me come ovah neah them and start a prayer meetin so de people followed me and we built a church and hit is yet dare terday." Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden Person interviewed: Mandy Tucker 1021 E. 11th Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas Age: 80? "I was here in slavery times but I don't know what year I was born. War? I was in it! "I member old master and old mistis too.
Marse Dave?" "Yes?" I said. "Marse Dave, she have a lil pink frock dat Marsa Nick had when he was a bebby. I done cotch Mistis lookin' at it, an' she hid it when she see me an' blush like 'twas a sin. Marse Dave?" "Yes?" I said again. "Where am de young Marsa?" "I don't know, Lindy," I answered. Lindy sighed. "She done talk 'bout you, Marse Dave, an' how good you is " "And Mrs.
"She po'ly, Marse Dave, an' she ain' nebber leabe dis year house. Marse Dave," said Lindy earnestly, lowering her voice and taking a step closer to me, "I done reckon de Mistis gwine ter die ob lonesomeness. She des sit dar an' brood, an' brood an' she use' ter de bes' company, to de quality. No, sirree, Marse Dave, she ain' nebber sesso, but she tink 'bout de young Marsa night an' day.
Yes jedge jes's soon as I Dat's it, mistis I'll take dat shawl No, sah, Marse Richard ain't begun yit. Dis way, ladies," and so it had gone on since the opening rat-a-tat-tat on the old brass knocker had announced the arrival of the first guest. Nor was there any question that everybody who could by any possibility have availed themselves of Richard's invitation had put in an appearance.
"Why de lady and childen dat come to my cabin was from New Orleans too," observed the old negro. "You say you don't know de name?" remarked Elsy. "No, I forget," she answered; "but what name did your mistis hab?" "Dey was name Wentworth," she replied. "Wantworth Wentworth," repeated the old woman. "No, dat don't sound like de name ob de lady, but may be I forget.
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