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Hogan says I haven't got th' dhramatic delusion an' he must be r-right f'r ye can't make me believe that twinty years has elapsed whin I know that I've on'y had time to pass th' time iv day with th' bartinder nex' dure. "Plays is upside down, Hinnissy, an' inside out.
"Wal, I sneaks away an' leaves 'em there, an' by an' by they comes up to where I sets on top o' the boat, an' Jud isn't so plumb gloomy as I thinks he'd be. "Him an' her goes down ter Fresno nex' day an' buys one o' that same identical make o' pianners an' has it shipped up on the first freight-wagon to Skyland. An' they puts it inter the warehouse, an' there she stands till Mr.
"Ten years, sar." "Have you a good appetite?" "Yes, sar." "Can you eat your allowance?" "Yes, sar, when I can get it." "Where were you employed in Virginia?" "I worked de tobacker fiel'." "In the tobacco field, eh?" "Yes, sar." "How old did you say you was?" "Twenty-five, sar, nex' sweet-'tater-diggin' time." "I am a cotton-planter, and if I buy you, you will have to work in the cotton-field.
He wuz cotched arfter a while, an' I hed some money, so I got some pine plank an' made a coffin dat evenin', an' wrapt Marse Chan's body up in de fleg, an' put 'im in de coffin; but I didn' nail de top on strong, 'cause I knowed ole missis wan' see 'im; an' I got a' ambulance an' set out for home dat night. We reached dyar de nex' evein', arfter travellin' all dat night an' all nex' day.
God bless you! she says to her. An' when I looked at 'Leven, I see the 'Huh? look wasn't there at all. But they was a little somethin' on her face like she was proud, an' didn't quite want to show it along of her features or complexion or somethin' never havin' had it spread on 'em before. "Nex' mornin' o' course 'Leven put on the shroud again.
Th' man nex' to ye had a banner declarin' that he was no slave. 'Twas th' la-ad Johnson. He was r-right. He is no slave, an' he won't be wan as long as people have washin' to give to his wife. Th' man I see ye takin' a dhrink with had a banner that said if th' mines was opened th' mills would be opened, too.
"We goin' to have war," said Raphael Ristofalo. "Ho! ho! ho! Why, Ristofalo, you were never more mistaken in your life!" "I dunno," replied the Italian, sticking in his tracks, "think it pretty certain. I read all the papers every day; nothin' else to do in parish prison. Think we see war nex' winter."
"Think I'm goin' to work in a house where doors is locked against me? I'm as honest as any Silt that ever hobbled on two laigs. Nex' thing, I cal'late, you'll be lockin' the coal shed and countin' the sticks in the woodpile." She had much more to say and said it. It seemed to make her feel better to do so.
She'll be down here herself nex' minute and have the horse walked out. Now we must make him lame a little. Light a match here, Jem, and I'll burn his foot." This was immediately done. And, sure enough, while poor Gyp was still smarting with his burn, Capitola came, holding up her riding train and hurrying to the scene, and asking indignantly: "Who dares to say that my horse is lame?
He was imitating "the quality" with great gusto. His eyes rolled, his sides shook, and his brown face was all one huge smile. "De bery nex' lady he ax dat same question to, mak' de same reply," went on Uncle Rufus, "an' Mars' Colby done cut all de laig meat erway on dat side. Den it come ergin. Somebody else want er piece ob de secon' j'int.
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