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Mo' té pas fé ça! I swea' befo' God! Oh, no, no, no! 'Tain' nutt'n' nohow but a lill play-toy, Miché. Oh, sweet Miché Jean, you not gwan to kill me? I di' n' mek it! It was ef you lemme go, I tell you who mek it! Sho's I live I tell you, Miché Jean ef you lemme go! Sho's God's good to me ef you lemme go! Oh, God A'mighty, Miché Jean, sho's God's good to me." She was becoming incoherent.
Oh, please now, you see? nutt'n' but a po' nigga's dr oh! fo' de love o' God, Miché Jean-Baptiste, don' open dat ah box! Y'en a rien du tout la-dans, Miché Jean-Baptiste; du tout, du tout! Oh, my God! Miché, on'y jis teck dis-yeh t'ing off'n my laig, ef yo' please, it's bit'n' me lak a dawg! if you please, Miché! Oh! you git kill' if you open dat ah box, Mawse Jean-Baptiste!
She fell, a snarling, struggling, groaning heap, to the ground, wild with pain and fright, and began the hopeless effort to draw the jaws of the trap apart with her fingers. "Ah! bon Dieu, bon Dieu! Quit a-bi-i-i-i-tin' me! Oh! Lawd 'a' mussy! Ow-ow-ow! lemme go! Dey go'n' to kyetch an' hang me! Oh! an' I hain' done nutt'n' 'gainst nobody! Ah! bon Dieu! ein pov' vié négresse! Oh! Jemimy!
"O-o-o-h! Lawd! o-o-oh! Lawd!" she cried, in a frantic, husky whisper, going down upon her knees, "Oh, Miché! pou' l'amou' du bon Dieu! Pou' l'amou du bon Dieu ayez pitié d'ein pov' négresse! Pov' négresse, Miché, w'at nevva done nutt'n' to nobody on'y jis sell calas! I iss comin' 'long an' step inteh dis-yeh bah-trap by accident! Ah! Miché, Miché, ple-e-ease be good!
Ah! mon Dieu! an' de Lawd'll reward you 'deed 'E will, Miché!" "Qui ci ça?" asked the Capitain, sternly, stooping and grasping her burden, which she had been trying to conceal under herself. "Oh, Miché, don' trouble dat! Please jes tek dis yeh trap offen me da's all! Oh, don't, mawstah, ple-e-ease don' spill all my wash'n' t'ings! 'Tain't nutt'n' but my old dress roll' up into a ball.
Mo' parole d'honneur le plus sacre I'll kiss de cross! Oh, sweet Miché Jean, laisse moi aller! Nutt'n' but some dutty close la-dans." She repeated this again and again, even after Capitain Jean-Baptiste had disengaged a small black coffin from the old dress in which it was wrapped. "Rien du tout, Miché; nutt'n' but some wash'n' fo' one o' de boys."
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