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He sought out the harbor-master, who was engaged in painting a dory behind his shop. "Wal, boy, want to get a fish-hook?" he queried, squinting toward Ken with a preoccupied eye. Ken disclaimed any desire for the fish-hook, and said he wanted to ask about a boat. "Ain't got none for sale ner hire, just now," the harbor-master replied. Ken said, so he had heard, but that wasn't it.
"Mars Jeems 'lowed atterwa'ds dat he wuz des shootin' in de da'k w'en he said dat 'bout de books, but howsomeber, Mars Nick Johnson lef dat naberhood 'twix' de nex' two suns, en nobody roun' dere nebber seed hide ner hair un 'im sence. En all de darkies t'ank de Lawd, en 'lowed it wuz a good riddance er bad rubbage.
"I'm plum tetchious an' worrited erbout Dorothy." For an avowed lover the seated man gave the impression of churlish unresponsiveness as he made his grumbling reply. "I reckon she hain't goin' ter come ter no harm. She hain't nobody's sugar ner salt." Caleb ran his talon-like fingers through his mane of gray hair and shook his patriarchal head.
"Brer Fox he make like he don't see Jack Sparrer, ner needer do he hear 'im, but bimeby he lay down by de road, en sorter stretch hisse'f like he fixin' fer ter nap. De tattlin' Jack Sparrer he flew'd 'long, en keep on callin' Brer Fox, but Brer Fox, he ain't sayin' nuthin'. Den little Jack Sparrer, he hop down on de groun' en flutter 'roun' 'mongst de trash.
Old Jim Bridger never disgraced hisself with a rifle." "Ner me," commented Jackson. "Hold a hair full, Jim, an' cut nigh the top o' the tin. That'll be safer fer my skelp, an' hit'll let less whisky out'n the hole. We got to drink what's left. S'pose'n we have a snort now?" "Atter we both shoot we kin drink," rejoined his friend, with a remaining trace of judgment.
He says he hain't got no mother, ner no brothers, ner no sisters, ner no nothin' on'y," the boy in the window added, with a very dry and painful swallow, "he says he hain't got nothin' on'y thist the clothes on his back!"
All he does is to look after lendin' the money, an' seein' that it gits paid when the time comes, an' keep track of how much money the' is here an' in N'York, an' what notes is comin' due an' a few things like that, that don't put pen to paper, ner take an hour of his time.
Oddly enough it is rather an unusual thing for a girl to be escorted to a dance in any kind of a dance hall. The girls go alone, with a friend, or with a group of girls. The exceptional girl, who is attended by a man, must dance with him, or if she accepts another part ner, she must ask his permission. An escort is deemed a somewhat doubtful advantage.
"I ain' losin' one ner 'tothah, but I do' see no ha'm in gwine ovah to de wes' plantation." "You do' see no ha'm in gwine ovah to de wes' plantation! You stan' hyeah in sight o' Gawd an' say dat?" "Don't git so 'cited, sis' Lize, you mus' membah dat dey's souls on de wes' plantation, jes' same as dey is on de eas'." "Yes, an' dey's souls in hell, too," the old woman fired back.
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