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"May de deah Lawd bress de young Linkum ossifer," rose Uncle Lusthah's tones, loud, yet with melodious power and pathos, for he was gifted with a voice of unusual compass, developed by his calling. "He des took he life in he hand en come down in de lan' ob de shadder, de gret, dark shadder dat's been restin' on de hearts ob de slabes. We had no fader, no muder, no wife, no chile.
She's strong an' gwine on twelve, an' de babies is gitten so dat dey ain't aroun' under my feet all de time. Vilet's spry an' kin run here an' dar an' fill de orders. She'd ease you up right smart." "Now, Sissy," said her husband, who always called her by the old household name, "dat's bery sens'ble and childlike in you to put yousef out fer you'se muder.
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