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Updated: June 13, 2025


With that she marched majestically into the kitchen, elbowed Letty-Lou out of her way, and proceeded to stir up a batch of brown molasses cookies. "'Cause dey is fillin' fo' boys. An' Mistuh Val, heah, he needs some moah fat 'crost dose skinny ribs.

"Young hick that got messy in the tango joint," says Jim. "Ah, fan him a few!" remarks the other. "Hold him still now while I " At which Uncle Noah pushes in and holds up a protestin' hand. "Now see heah, Mistuh Constable," says he, "I wouldn't go for to do anything like that!" "Wha-a-at?" snarls the copper. "Say, you old billy-goat, beat it!" And he proceeds to clip young Mr.

"Mistuh Tom," asked Sandy solemnly, "ef I wuz in yo' place, an' you wuz in my place, an' we wuz bofe in de same place, whar would I be?" Tom looked at Sandy keenly, with a touch of apprehension. Did Sandy mean anything in particular by this enigmatical inquiry, and if so, what?

She dragged out of hiding from behind her voluminous skirts her second son, a chocolate-brown infant who rejoiced in the name of Gustavus Adolphus and was generally called "Doff." At that moment he was sobbing noisily and eyeing Val as if the boy were the Grand High Executioner of Tartary. "Yo'all tell Mistuh Val whats yo' bin a-doin'!" commanded his mother, emphasizing her order with a shake.

Her voice was shrill and piping, but softened somewhat by age. "Is dis yere whar Mistuh Ryduh lib, suh?" she asked, looking around her doubtfully, and glancing into the open windows, through which some of the preparations for the evening were visible. "Yes," he replied, with an air of kindly patronage, unconsciously flattered by her manner, "I am Mr. Ryder. Did you want to see me?"

"All right, compadre, pretty me up like a new stake rope on a thirty-dollar pony. If I don’t agree, likely you’ll trip up m’ foreleg an’ reshoe me anyway. Right nowI’ll say it out good’n clearI’m so pore m’ backbone rattles when I cough." "Mistuh Kirby—" Hamilcar came in. "Mistuh Nye says to tell you he’ll be back.

"Mistuh Bristow, Lucy's done come," said Mattie, at the living room door. Bristow started to leave his chair, but changed his mind. "Tell her to wait a few minutes," he said. He began to think and to determine just what he wanted to find out from Lucy, what she would say and what he wanted her to say. It would not do to question her before he felt sure of what she knew and what she must confess.

When Lucy agreed that it would be all right, Val boosted him into the saddle where he clung like a jockey. "An' wheah is yo'all goin', Mistuh Val?" asked Lucy, cutting out round cookies with a downward stroke of the drinking glass she had pressed into service. The regular cutter was, in her opinion, too small. "Down toward the bayou.

I think it was at Richmond, Virginia, that I was awakened by the negro porter shaking me very gently and repeating, in a pleasant, monotonous voice: "Teleg'am foh you, suh! Teleg'am foh Mistuh Gilland, suh. 'Done call you 'lev'm times sense breakfass, suh! Las' call foh luncheon, suh. Teleg'am foh " "Heavens!" I muttered, sitting up in my bunk, "is it as late as that! Where are we?"

"Mistuh Ralestone, suh," Letty-Lou, standing half-way up the back stairs, addressed Rupert, "lunch am on de table. Effen yo'all doan come now, de eatments will be spiled." "All right," he answered. "Letty-Lou," called Ricky, "put on another plate. Miss Charity is staying to lunch." "Dat's all ri', Miss 'Chanda. I'se done done dat. Yo'all comin' now?"

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