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Updated: June 3, 2025
But dar's a heap ob good people, Mis' Buggone, who think dey can run dis po' machine ob a body in a way dat would wear out wrought-iron, and den pray de good Lawd ter keep it strong and iled and right up to the top-notch ob po'r.
No wonder he was caught in a desert blizzard where no one had ever said there was a desert! "Lord God," he cried out, "he'p this yeah po'r sinner! He'p! He'p!" Jock, alias "Slip," Drones, was discovering how small the world really is. Like many another man, he had figured that no one would know him, no one could possibly find him, down the Mississippi River, more than a thousand miles from home.
Long without touch of painter's brush, the few wretched buildings that remained were the color of the mist. To the nurse like the fog that hid the valley they suggested cold mysterious depths of life, untouched by any ray of promised sun. And out of that dull gray abyss a woman's voice broke sharply, on the stillness, in a scream of pain. "Dat's her, dat's de po'r gal, now, nurse.
Dat wuz de las' ob dat ar spook, Unc' Sampson say, en he say spook's cur'us dat away. Wen dey sats'fy dere grudge dey lets up en dey doan foller de man dey down on kaze dey on'y po'r in de place whar de man 'lowed ter kill um."
"You welcome, a hun'erd times welcome, kaze you kep my young mistis fum bein' mar'ed right slap 'gin her own feelin's ter her cousin." "Pshaw! Aunt Jinkey. No one can marry a girl against her will in this country." "Dat des de question Miss Lou en me projeckin' 'bout dis berry mawnin'. She gyardeens went straight along ez ef dey had de po'r, dey sut'ny did. Dat's w'at so upset Miss Lou en me.
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