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Updated: June 9, 2025
"But I couldn't sabe de goose from bein' sp'ilt. Dat was beyon' my powah. An' it happen disher way: "De yaller gal git de goose all stuffed an' fixed propah, fo' she done use my mammy's resate fo' stuffin'. But de no-'count critter set it right down in de roastin' pan on de flo' by de po'ch door. Eroun' come snuffin' a lean houn' dawg, one ob de re'l ol' 'nebber-git enuff' breed.
Sometimes when I is fo'ced ter sleep in the ca'ige, when Miss Ann an' me air a visitin' wha' things air kinder crowded like, I digs me up a little flower an' plants it in a ol' can an' kinder makes out my coachman's box air a po'ch. Miss Judy, it air a sad thing ter git ter be ol' an' wo' out 'thout ever gittin' what you wanted when you wa' young an' spry."
Sonny an' Mary Elizabeth are too sweet-hearted an' true not to be reproduced in detail, an' passed along. This here ol' oak tree thet gran'pa planted when I was a kid, why, it'd be a fine shady place for healthy girls an' boys to play under. When I set here by myself on this po'ch so much these days an' think, an' remember, why I thess wonder over the passage o' time.
We's gonter git somewhar an' they ain't no use'n worryin' whar. You go down an' set on the po'ch an' I'll pack yo' things an' I'll do it as good as anybody an' we'll crope out'n here in the mawnin' befo' Marse Bob an' Miss Milly's dus' air settled on the pike.
You's plum tuckered out what with sech a early start an' mo'n likely no sleep las' night. You ain't called on ter be a botherin' yo' little haid 'bout nothin'. Jes' you res' yo'se'f an' after you rests you kin come down on the po'ch an' git the air." If he had been a mammy coaxing a child Billy's tone could not have been more gentle or loving.
"You'd better come in an' git a glass of this milk befo' you move on. Jest go roun' to the gate and I'll meet you at the po'ch. The dog won't bite you if you don't touch nothin'." "All right, go ahead and hide the spoons," called Dan, as he swung open the gate and went up a little path bordered by prince's feathers.
When dis triflin' ole mule seed de cullud man, Harris, sittin' on de bottom step ob de po'ch, he begin to kick up his heels an' make all de noise he could wid he mouf. 'Wot's dat? cried de cullud man, Harris. 'I's a big grizzly bar, said de mule, ''scaped from de 'nagerie when 'twas fordin' Scott's Creek. 'When did you git out? said de cullud man, Harris.
"When could that have been?" she bantered. The old fellow's face disappeared into a network of wrinkles. "Dat wuz when he picked his gloves offen de po'ch an' got one on befoh knowin' a hornet had done crawled in it. He come purty nigh fergittin' his salvation, den! All de same," he added, still chuckling, "he say he's comin' over dis 'way dis evenin', less'n de lightnin' strike 'im.
But Brer Wolf he wern't de man fer ter give it up dat away, en he got 'im a spade, en a pick-axe, en a shovel, en he dig en dig fer dat cow twel diggin' wuz pas' all endu'unce, en ole Brer Rabbit he sot up dar in his front po'ch en smoke his seegyar. Eve'y time ole Brer Wolf stuck de pick-axe in de clay, Brer Rabbit, he giggle ter his chilluns: "'He diggy, diggy, diggy, but no meat dar!
"Where's the rocking-chair you had when Ah was here befo'? That was Ben Frady's mother's chair. Ah've seen the old woman sitting out on the po'ch in it many a time." She waited for an answer, and Friedrich colored to the roots of his hair. It was on his tongue's tip to say that it was in the next room, but Mrs.
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