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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Thar warn't no needcessity," said Pop complacently, taking a long twist of tobacco from his pocket. "Sal don't need no larnin'. She's pearter then most gals thet's got book sense. You show me ary one of these gals round here thet kin spin an' weave the cloth to mek ther own dresses, thet kin mold candles, an' mek soap, an' hoe terbaccy, an' handle a rifle good ez a man." "But, Mr.
"Sarvent, marster," he said, taking his hat off. Then, as if apologetically for having permitted a stranger to witness what was merely a family affair, he added: "He know I don' mean nothin' by what I sez. He's Marse Chan's dawg, an' he's so ole he kyahn git long no pearter. He know I'se jes' prodjickin' wid 'im." "Who is Marse Chan?"
Margaret bade him good morning, and then asked concerning the health of the "folks." He sat down and twisted his hat round and round. "The folks air jest tolerable, ma'm. How's all with you?" "Tolerable," Margaret answered. "Yo' brother Bill a gittin' better?" Jasper inquired. Round and round Laz twisted his hat. "Pearter than he war yistidy, but not as peart as he war the day befo'."
Hardly had he reached his room when he heard the footsteps of Berry without. Going to the door he was met by Berry with the explanation, "Beg parding, Marse Hesden. I knowed 'twa'n't de time fer me ter come yit, but somehow I'llowed it would git on pearter ef I wuz somewhar nigh you an' Miss Mollie. I'se half afeared I'se ies been dreamin' ennyhow." "Well, come in," said Hesden.
The old bitterness came back redoubled in its force. The next instant he was stamping down the avenue, roaring for Walker, his body-servant, in such a tone that the cook's advice was speedily taken: "Bettah hump yo'self outen dis heah kitchen befo' de ole tigah gits to lashin' roun' any pearter."
You alluse was sassier an' pearter den yo' brother Nelse, an' he had to go an' git killed in de wah, an' you you w'y, jedge, I'se spanked dat boy mo' times den I kin tell you fu' hus impidence. I don't see how you evah gits erlong wid him." The court repressed a ripple that ran around. But there was no smile on the smooth-shaven, clear-cut face of the young Southerner.
"Sarvent, marster," he said, taking his hat off. Then, as if apologetically for having permitted a stranger to witness what was merely a family affair, he added: "He know I don' mean nothin' by what I sez. He's Marse Chan's dawg, an' he's so ole he kyahn git long no pearter. He know I'se jes' prodjickin' wid 'im." "Who is Marse Chan?"
Martha's half promised to come, but not till after supper. It will all go right, since you are here; come into mother's room and take off your things!" "Well," said Miss Betsy, with a snort, "that's to be my business, eh? I'll have my hands full; a pearter couple o' lads a'n't to be found this side o' Nottin'gam. They might ha' growed up wild on the Barrens, for all the manners they've got."
"You do look pearter, child but you look different from when you came. My suz! you looked so excited and kind of young when I opened that door, it give me a start for a minute I thought I'd woke out of a dream and you was a Miss in short skirts again. But now let me see you closer."
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