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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Don't shoot dis niggah!" pleaded Tavia, actually making for the ladder. Dorothy went over to the open window and put the rifle to her shoulder. She pulled the trigger. There was no discharge. Not satisfied with one trial she worked the rifle until there was positively no possibility of any load being in the weapon. "There, that's clean," she said. "Now for the cartridge."
They were George's greatest treasures, and she allowed no one to touch them, not even John Jay, to whom they had been left. "What does a little niggah like him want of schoolin'," she had once said to Uncle Billy, when he had proposed sending the boy to school to keep him out of mischief. "Why, that John Jay he hasn't got any mo' mind than a grasshoppah.
Take de ole niggah if you's, got to hab somebody. Good Lord, good deah Lord, we don't know whah you's a gwyne to, we don't know who you's got yo' eye on, but we knows by de way you's a comin', we knows by de way you's a tiltin' along in yo' charyot o' fiah dat some po' sinner's a gwyne to ketch it.
"Ef dere's spooks anywhere dey's dereaway," he muttered over his hoe; "but den, ki! dey woan 'fere wid dis yer niggah. What hab I'se got ter do wid de wah and de fighten an de jabbin'? De spooks cyant lay nuffin ter me eben ef ole marse an' de res' am a-fighten ter keep dere slabes, as folks say."
Lijah was nigh wo'n out w'en he come to his house. He opens the doh quick an' slams it shut; den he heahs de cat a-scratchin' on de doh an kinda' sniffin' 'bout, an' Lijah, he lays down on de bed plumb wo'n out. In de mawnin' he tell his wife all 'bout it. She sez nothin' fo' a while but jes' set a-figgerin'. Den she sez, "Yo' one fool, niggah. Go an' kill de bes' hawg an' cut him up.
On t' odder han', Mistah Pres'dent, Mistah Tom Bannistah is er white man too, jes de same; but I kin say fo' Mistah Bannistah 'at he's mo' like er niggah an' any white man 'at I ebber seed afore!" Here the Colonel paused to wait for the shouting and the hat-throwing to subside. Meantime the face of old Barnaby was drawn into one indescribable pucker of amazement.
"No, sah, jes' one; nigger no use for two names." "Yah! yah! yah!" echoed the dusky crowd behind him. "You's jes' right dah, you is! Niggah mighty little use fer heap o' names. Jes' like a mule one name does him, an' mighty well off ef he's 'lowed ter keep dat."
At first he had not believed it, none of them had. But as the morning went on and Mammy Maria failed to appear, he accepted it, saying: "Jus' like a niggah who ever heard of any of them havin' any gratitude!" Helen was too deeply numbed by the thought of the mill to appreciate fully her new sorrow.
"Mais, w'at de matter, Posson Jone'?" "My sins, Jools, my sins!" "Ah! Posson Jone', is that something to cry, because a man get sometime a litt' bit intoxicate? "Jools, Jools, your eyes is darkened oh! Jools, where's my pore old niggah?" "Posson Jone', never min'; he is wid Baptiste." "Where?" "I don' know w'ere mais he is wid Baptiste. Baptiste is a beautiful to take care of somebody."
But when he grasped the honored hand, he also held it, fixing upon its owner a generous and somewhat bacchanalian smile. "I'm a fool, but I know. You been put op a jawb on me. Dass four, five days now I been try to meck out what dat niggah at Belle Alliance holla to me when I gallop down de road." Well, dat night I mit him comin' fum Gran' Point' and he hol' at me.
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