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Updated: April 30, 2025
Feng, attracted by the voice, came to the door. "Hallo! What wanchee?" he demanded. "The country's overrun wid them yelly divils!" Mr. Quilty muttered. "What wanchee? Th' nerve iv him! Ye weathered-ivory monkey face, I've business wid yer betters!" "You keepee hossee off flowah bed," commanded Feng. "What foh you lidee him all oveh?" "Ask th' harrse!" Quilty retorted.
Yo' see a cotton plant doesn' grow mo'n about fo' feet high an' thar's always a lot of it that's shorter. The bolls hang low, sometimes, an' yo've got to go pickin', pickin', stoopin' halfway oveh an' the hot sun beatin' down on yo' neck an' back. Since the war the planters have tried all sorts o' labor, but thar's no white man that c'n pick cotton, they get blindin' headaches an' fall sick.
Rogers answered, "Mary Jane Hart, who kept the little boy with her at the station afteh his motheh died, tole me about it the nex' summeh when she come oveh to Houston's one day, an' uv how she hated to part with him; fur she hed no childurn uv her own then, an' hed took a mighty fancy to the pore little fellah."
He paused to look out over the waters with shining eyes. After a bit he said slowly, "Ah neveh thought Genevieve would go but she did." "Then what?" "Well, seh, Ah stayed on th' place twell we moved oveh to Miss Cahline's secon' cousin, Mahstah Cunnel Peavey, but they wa'n't nothin' theah, so Ah sais t' Miss Cahline that Ah's goin' Nawth wheah all th' money is, an' Ah send fo' huh.
The cow-puncher's eye rested a moment amiably upon me. "You can play whist with your brains," he mused, "brains and cyards. Now cyards are only one o' the manifestations of poker in this hyeh world. One o' the shapes yu fool with it in when the day's work is oveh. Maybe it will be a mean, triflin' army, or an empty six-shooter, or a lame hawss, or maybe just nothin' but his natural countenance.
He's simply playing with me or trying to do it. Well, we'll try to be right here, still doing business, when the game is over." One morning a negro from the brushing crew came running up to Payne's tent in great excitement. "Boss, boss! Trouble in the jungle oveh dah. White man driving colored boys away with rifle."
'Em white bu'glahs don't seem to crave me nohow, no time; 'ey jus' be tickled to death to put me an' 'Lisha oveh 'e fence if we git clost 'nough to it. Yes, indeed; I 'low to give 'is hawss all 'e room whut is on a race track!" Old Man Curry led Elisha toward his barn, the little negro trailing behind, addressing the horse in terms of endearment.
The Virginian pulled them back rather sharply. "Want to go back to Balaam's?" he inquired of them. "I thought you had more sense." I asked, "Who was Balaam?" "A maltreater of hawsses," replied the cowpuncher. "His ranch is on Butte Creek oveh yondeh." And he pointed to where the diverging road melted into space. "The Judge bought Buck and Muggins from him in the spring." "So he maltreats horses?"
He had quite a time makin' 'em promise not ter cut in on Matlock, las' night. I hear 'm jawbonin' about it oveh to thu shack. But they finally allows he's Ken's meat an' 'grees ter keep han's off. I'd feel some sorry fer that Matlock ef he wa'nt sech a pizen skunk. I r'ally do wisht he was moah of a man! Ken's too clean a boy to hev ter stomp out sech a snake."
It'll teach both sides, as Garnet said awhile ago addressin' the crowd, that the gov'ment o' Dixie's simply got to paass, this time, away f'om a raace that can't p'eserve awdeh, an' be undividedly transfehed oveh to the raace God-A'mighty appointed to gov'n!" Judge March's voice was full of meek distress. "Captain Shotwell, where is Major Garnet, sir?" "Garnet?
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