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Updated: May 7, 2025
Don't more than half believe, perhaps, would be nearer to the mark." "Why, ole soldier alway distrust; squaw nebber? Ask moder ha! you t'ink Nick don't know son's trail handsome trail, like young chief's?" "I can readily believe Nick might recognise Bob's trail, Hugh" expostulated Mrs. Willoughby.
"Oh! come!" interrupted Muggins in a remonstrative tone. "Yis, him wos a Injin," repeated Bunco stoutly. "Wos he a steam-ingine?" inquired Muggins with a slight touch of sarcasm. "He means an Indian, Muggins," explained Will. "Then why don't he say wot he means? However, go ahead, Ebony." "Hims wos a Injin," resumed Bunco, "ant me moder him wos a Spanish half-breed from dis yer country Peru.
Long before the hour of worship had arrived, however, poor Winklemann went off in his canoe, and spent the whole of that day, as he spent several succeeding days, in anxious, diligent, hopeful, but finally despairing search for his lost old "moder."
And yet in every other point the stranger apparently was of the Indian race. As he drew near Peleg, his face was lighted by a smile as he said, "Me broder. Me white Shawnee." Peleg did not respond, although his astonishment was increased by the speech of the approaching warrior. "Me wan' go home. No fader. Me Shawnee fader. Me wan' white fader. White moder dead. White fader dead.
My God! when will my moder and sisters hear of dis, and what will dey say? and he went on so and moaned; and when we found out he was from up Norf, and sorry at dat for being a Rebel, we felt all de warmer toward him. He called us bery kind, but moaned and went on so dreadfully dat my wife and darter didn't know what to do to comfort him. Dey bathed his head and made him cool drinks, but no use.
Coming up the path they saw a tall middle-aged woman, and by her side a young girl of about eighteen who was a marked contrast to her in appearance. "Dey's his moder and sister. You will drive tings dis arternoon." Mrs.
An' yet often, when he was pintin' out yer letters ter yer, or showin' yer pearty tings, like as you was a chile, he look so happy and gentle like, dat I say he jes' like a moder." Grace was touched, and yet deep, deep in her soul she felt that a wrong had been done her, no matter what had been the motives.
Soon Missy Roberta come out de parlor an' look in de pantry an' de oder rooms, an' she sof'ly call me, 'kase she know I was las' up 'round de house; but I'se ain't sayin' nuffin'. Den she go in de missus room, whar my moder was, an' soon she and Missy S'wanee came out an' whisper, an' Missy S'wanee was a-larfin' how as ef she was pleased.
Den he took you 'cross de big ocean golly I how big it be jes' as de doctor said; an' nebber hab I seed sich lub, sich 'votion in a moder as Mas'r Graham hab had fer you. He had to take care ob you like a little chile, an' he was teachin' you how to read like a little chile when, all on a suddint, you wakes up an' knows ebryting you'se forgotten.
Soon a gruff voice said, 'Halt! I guv de password mighty sudden, an' den said, 'I want to see Cap'n Lane. De man call anoder soger, an' he come an' question me, an' den took me ter de cap'n. An' he was a-sleepin' as if his moder had rocked 'im! But he was on his feet de moment he spoke to. He 'membered me, an' ask ef de mawnin' wouldn't answer.
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