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Updated: May 19, 2025
Old Sarah for a while was silent, and then yielded: "'Yo' po' sick chile, yo' knows Sarah Angeline can't 'fuse yo' nuffin' when yo' mo' and mo' 'zembles my Mandy Car'line ebery bressed minit, lookin' so pleadin' in her ole black mudder's eyes just 'fo' she died!
"She ought to be here, it's time. Winnie usually brings her for her afternoon visit to her proud parents. And here she comes! Here's mudder's own Poggly-woggly Pom-pom head!" "What delightful names you invent! Let me have a try at it! Here's Fodder's own Piggly-winktum! There, how's that?" "Perfectly horrid! Sounds like a pig!" "All right, let's try again. Who's the airiest, fairiest, tiny mite?
When Stuart returned early from his work in the afternoon he found a group of forlorn women and children standing beside the stoop. A pale, elfish-looking boy of ten, whose face appeared to be five years older, sat on the lower step crying. "What's the matter, kiddie?" he asked kindly. "I wants de doctor me mudder's sick. She'll croak before mornin' ef he don't come dey all want him."
Poor old Jenny had passed so much of her life in the family with "the white folks," that all her sympathies went with them and on the state of their spiritual atmosphere depended all her cheerfulness and comfort; and now the cool, distant, sorrowful condition of the members of the little family circle "ebery single mudder's son and darter ob 'em, superamblated off to derself like pris'ners in a jailhouse" as she said depressed her spirits very much.
Think of wasting all that fruit and sugar! Does mother know?" Mahailey's low brow clouded. "I reckon she does. I don't wase your mudder's sugar. I never did wase nothin'," she muttered. Her speech became queerer than ever when she was angry. Ralph dashed down the cellar stairs, lit a lantern, and searched the fruit closet. Sure enough, there were no pickled peaches.
By this time Amy had tired of the twins, who had fingered her rings and buttons, and stroked her dress and hair, and called her a pretty lady, and asked her on the sly for a nickel. She was getting restless, when Jakey said, "If you'd like to see your mudder's grave, come wid me."
"Yer got no lan', yer got no cash, Yer only got some debts; Yer couldn't take de bankrupt law 'Cos ye hain't got no 'assets. De chillen dey mus' hev dere bread; De mudder's gettin' ole, So darkey, you mus' skirmish roun' An' pay up on yer poll." "Den jes fork up de little tax, etc. "Yer know's yer's wuked dis many a year.
Slick, "he is a Christian is Jube, he is as good as a white Britisher: same flesh, only a leetle, jist a leetle darker; same blood, only not quite so old, ain't quite so much tarter on the bottle as a lord's has; oh him and a Britisher is all one brother oh by all means Him fader's hope him mudder's joy, Him darlin little nigger boy. You'd better cry over him, hadn't you.
Claude, it wasn't like that in our war; the soldiers didn't do nothin' to the women an' chillun. Many a time our house was full of Northern soldiers, an' they never so much as broke a piece of my mudder's chiney." "You'll have to tell me about it again sometime, Mahailey. I must have my dinner and get back to work.
She crooned to herself, as she returned with the knife in her hand, and stuck it in, clear to the heart of the fruit before her. "What's that, Janey?" asked Allie, who had followed Charlie out into the kitchen. "Dat? Dat's a song I done heard an ol' man singin', one day. He had some melons to sell, out on de corner by my mudder's house, an' he kep' a singin' it ober an' ober.
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