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Updated: May 28, 2025
Well, you would if you had been in Wall Street lately. Well, what is the matter? You are going around here as glum as a meat-axe. Something 's up. What is it?" "Ain' nothin' de matter wid me." She glanced away under her master's half amused, half disdainful glance, then added half surlily: "I wants rec'nition." "Want recognition? What do you mean?"
Keeps quite up with the times interested in the races in more senses than one." "Yes, sir; he preaches very well." "That is all. Well, your friend must have 'rec'nition." The old woman withdrew. The following day Graeme went down to a detective agency and left a memorandum. A few days later he received a message from the agency: "Yes, he is the same man. He frequents the pool-rooms a good deal.
This is Amos Brown, 'a friend of Caesar's." "Indeed, I ain 't suh. I'm de Reverend Amos Johnson " began the preacher, but his looks belied him. Mammy Lyddy took in the truth, and the next second the storm broke. "'Amos Brown' you is? I might 'a' knowd it! You thief! You a friend of Caesar's! Whar's my money? My money you stole from Caesar? You come talkin' to me 'bout rec'nition?
I leetle more 'n smacked that yaller gal' what you call you' maid over 'bout talkin' dat way t'other day." "Then what do you want!" "I wants rec'nition dat's all I wants." "Who told you to say that!" asked Mr. Graeme. "Who tol' me to say dat?" She was puzzled. "Yes." "Ain' nobody tol' me to say it." "Yes, some one has. Who was it? -the Reverend Johnson? Did n't he tell you that!"
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