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They gathered their greenery from the grove down beyond the old bridge and ravine, where the ground was an unbroken web of honeysuckle vines. On this old bridge, at the late night hour fixed in the letter, Cornelius met a counterfeit, thickly-veiled Johanna, and swore to marry her. "Black as you is? Yass! The blackeh the betteh! An' yit I'd marry you ef you wuz pyo white! Colo' line!
"But he couldn't p'ocure a sufficient concawdence o' my fellow-citizens; much less o' they wives naw evm o' mine! No, seh! They brought in they verdic' that jess at this junction it'd be cal'lated to ungendeh strife an' could on'y do hahm." He giggled again. "My politics save me, seh! They always will. An' they ought to; faw they as pyo as the crystial fountain."
"Ow penitent brother on'y asks you to bear his message. It's natu'al he should cling to the one pyo tie that holds him to us. O John, 'in wrath remembeh mercy! An' yet you may be the nearest right, God knows! O brethren, let's kneel and ask Him faw equal love an' wisdom!" Garnet rose to kneel, but March put out a protesting hand. "I wouldn't do that, sir."
Oh, Jedge March, dey shot me in pyo devilment. I was jist lookin' out fo' my boy. Dey was comin' in to town an dey sees me, an awdehs me to halt, an' 'stid o' dat I runs, thinkin' that'd suit 'em jist as well. Oh, Lawd! Oh, Lawd! Oh!" He stared into the Judge's face, a great pain heaved him slowly, his eyes set, and all was over.
His fus' wife had de easies' time an' de happies' time er ary woman in dis settlement. He's grieve' fer her a long time, but I reckon he's gittin' over it, an' de nex' 'oman w'at marries him'll git a box er pyo' gol', ef I does say it as is his own mammy." Rena had thought Wain rather harsh with his household, except in her immediate presence.
"Now he jes done dat out'n pyo' sass'ness, caze he knowed de Peafowl felt hisse'f 'bove cookin'; an' wen de Peafowl hyeard dat, he 'gun ter git mad; an' he 'lowed dat ef'n de Owl said dat ter him ergin dey'd be er fuss on his han's. Well, de nex' day de Owl seed him comin, an' he 'gun fer ter scrape out'n his pots an' skillets, an' ez he scrape 'em he holler'd out, "'Whoo cooks fur you-oo-a?
White man ain't eveh goin' to lif hisseff up by holdin' niggeh down, an' that's the pyo chaotic truth; now, ain't it?" "Best way is to hang the nigger up." "Aw, Mr. March, you a-jokin'! You know I espress the truth.
Anybody-in-God's-worl', pass yo' plate faw a piece o' the chicken pie? What! you heard it? Oh, Mr. March, don't you be fool'! An' yit I favo's Rosemont " "Why, you've made it your standing threat to burst Rosemont wide open!" "Yass, te-he! I has often prevaricate that intention. But Law'! that was pyo gas, Mr. March.
"Hyeh, honey," put in the child's old black nurse, in a voice that never failed to soothe, however grotesque its misinterpretations, "lay yo' head on me; an' lay it heavy: dass what I'm use-en to. Blessed is de pyo in haht; she shall res' in de fea' o' de Lawd, an' he shall lafe at heh calamity."
Late in the afternoon Tom Hersey and two or three others were talking together near the post-office. "Now, f'r instance, what right had he to give that boy first honors! As sho's you're a foot high, that's a piece o' pyo log-rollin'." Doctor Coffin came by. "Doctor, I understand Mrs. March has arrived. I hope the Jedge is betteh, seh. What?
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