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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Yes, if that fetch-taked nigger ever gits the hoss hitched up," Margaret spoke up. Jasper snatched up his hat. "Oh, he'd hitch up a hoss to the fou'th of July jest about in time to drive up to the front door of Christmas. I'll go and see about it myse'f. Slowest nigger I ever seed," and muttering he went out.
By nacher I'm a heap moosical; so I ups givin' that genius for harmony expression an' yoonites myse'f with the "Sni-a-bar Silver Cornet Band." Old Hickey is leader, an' he puts me in to play the snare drum, the same bein' the second rung on the ladder of moosical fame, an' one rung above the big drum. Old Hickey su'gests that I start with the snare drum an' work up.
Can't you-all let a pore pup howl, when his heart is low an' his destinies most likely has got tangled in their rope? "'jest the same, says Boggs, 'them outcries of theirs makes me feel a heap ambiguous. I'm drawin' kyards to a pa'r of fours that first howl they emits, an' I smells bad luck an' thinks to myse'f, "Here's where you get killed too dead to skin!"
"'I've no weepon, sir, says Coyote, limpin' about in a circle, 'but if ary of these gentlemen will favour me with a gun I'll admire to put myse'f in your way. "Which the appearance of Coyote when he utters this, an' him showin' on the surface about as war-like as a prairie-dog, convulses Dan an' Texas.
"Now, Aun' Sheba, you are doing wrong," said Mrs. Bodine, gravely and earnestly. "The Lord has been very patient with you more so than I would be. If I had made you promises and you kept saying, 'I don't feel sure about them, I'd give you a piece of my mind." "Lor, missus, how you puts it! Is it dataway?" "Certainly." "Well, den, I jes takes myse'f off 'bation.
Is sho' is ongodly business. I never will forgit de fearsome sight o' seein' men die 'fore dey time. War sho' is de debbil's own work. "De Klu Klux Klan didn' bother me none. Course, I was feared of' em at firs', but I soon learnt dat long as I b'haved myse'f an' tended my business dey warnt after me. Dey sho' disastered dem what meddled wid de white folks.
"But as to this yere Watkins: I don't know about the wisdom of burdenin' you with Watkins. It's gettin' plenty late, an' I'm some fatigued myse'f; I must be organizin' to bed myse'f down a lot for the night. I ain't so cap'ble of sleeplessness as I am 'way back yonder in the years when I'm workin' cattle along the old Jones an' Plummer trail.
I wa'n't gwine be tempted, an' I try to pull myse'f erway. Ef I'd 'a' gone den 'twould 'a' been all right, but I stayed an' I stayed, an' I looked, an' I looked, an' it did seem lak it was so easy. At las', mistah, I tried it, an' I didn' fin' dat ball, an' dee got my ten dollahs, an' dat was all I had." "Uh, huh," said Schwalliger grimly, "thell game, an' dey did you."
Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for 'im when he come back, an', fo' Gord, ef he face didn' shine like a angel's. I say to myse'f, 'Um'm! ef de glory o' Gord ain' done shine on 'im! An' what yo' 'spose 'twuz?
He had no feet, but he kep' lookin' afte' me an' every way I turned he wouldn' take his eye offen me, an' I walked fast an' he got faster an' den I run an' den he run, an' when I got home I jes fell on de bed an' hollered an' hollered an' tol' my old lady, an' she said I was jes' skeered, but I'se sho' seed dat sperit an' I ain't goin' by de grave yard at night by myse'f ag'in.
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