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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Eh, but ye're a lass to mak a man prood! I cudna hae dune better mysef' gien I had been a gran' lady wi' a' the wits o' a puir wife! Sit ye doon, my lady, an' be richt walcome! Eh, but ye're bonny, as ever was ony! an' eh, but ye're steady as never was leddy! May the Lord bless ye, an' the laird kiss ye!"
You's take his fishin' place. You's got him fined two times. You's make my moder pay his bill wis my weddin' money. What you goin' pay for all dat? You tink I'll be goin' for mos' kill mysef pullin' you out for noting? When you ever do someting for anybody for noting, eh, M'sieu Savarin? "'How much you want? he's say. "'Ten dollare for de platform, dat's all.
I knows den it no use to look for her any longer, and de more I grows to look down, 'pears like de more dey laughs at me, and dey calls me 'dat moon-hit niggar. I gets so stupid after a while, dat massa threatens to sell me way down whar dey works de niggars up; and I gets so, I don't care how much dey whips me, or anyting else, for I tinks I neber be mysef again, when one day massa takes me wid him down to de boats, to fotch de cotton, and I hears de captain ask, what ail dat fellow to look so blue, and massa tells him, I got a notion dat I hab a right to keep my wife and young uns, like I hab de feelin's ob white folks.
I'll pay de two dollare, he's say when his head come up some more. "'Ver' well, den, Alphonsine she's say; 'I'll be willin' for save you, me. But you hain't scooped by me. You's in Marie's net. I'll only come for help Marie. You's her sturgeon; an' Alphonsine she's laugh an' laugh. "'I didn't lose no sturgeon for Marie, he's say. "'No, eh?" I'll say mysef. 'But you's steal my fader's platform.
You can't slip up on um en grab um; en how's a body gwyne to hit um wid a rock? How could a body do it in de night? En I warn't gwyne to show mysef on de bank in de daytime." "Well, that's so. You've had to keep in the woods all the time, of course. Did you hear 'em shooting the cannon?" "Oh, yes. I knowed dey was arter you. I see um go by heah watched um thoo de bushes."
"Ef de day come w'en I kin stan' up en say fer sho, 'I own mysef, en God ony my Mars'r, I kin starbe ef dat He will. En dat' minds me, young mistis. IS we free? Perkins growlin' roun' agin dis mawnin', en say we he'p 'bout de horspital ter-day, but we all go ter wuk ter-morrer. I 'lowed he orter talk ter us 'bout wages en he des larf en cuss me. Wat's gwine ter be de end?
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