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If he know'd I was in love with little Roxy he'd marry her to a nigger." "What makes him hate you so, Jack?" "Becaze I wears my bell-crowns, and he wears the steeple-top hat. He thinks I'm a-mockin' of him. Levin, I ain't got no other kind of hat to wear. Meshach Milburn needn't wear that air hat, but if I don't wear a bell-crown I must go bareheaded.
Besides, the planter insisted that Roxy wouldn't know where she was, at first, and that by the time she found out she would already have been contented. So Tom argued with himself that it was an immense advantaged for Roxy to have a master who was pleased with her, as this planter manifestly was.
Why, I jist held my breath and looked, and in a minute it kind o' faded away, and I got up and went to the bed, but the man was gone. He lay there with the pleasantest smile on his face that ever you see; and I woke up Ruey, and told her about it." Mrs. Kittridge drew a long breath. "What do you think it was?" "Well," said Miss Roxy, "I know what I think, but I don't think best to tell.
None of dem white gulls and pigeons gits dat corn. A white feller wouldn't suit you, Virgie." "Why?" says Roxy, "Virgie was raised among white children; so was I. We didn't know any difference till we grew up." "Dat was what spiled ye," Samson said; "de colored man is de best husban'. He ain't thinkin' 'bout business while he makin' love, like Marster Milburn.
Roxy followed this sally with another discharge of carefree laughter. "You's jealous, Roxy, dat's what's de matter wid you, you hussy yah yah yah! Dat's de time I got you!" "Oh, yes, you got me, hain't you. 'Clah to goodness if dat conceit o' yo'n strikes in, Jasper, it gwine to kill you sho'. If you b'longed to me, I'd sell you down de river 'fo' you git too fur gone.
He told his age to the elders." "I haven't a word of praise for him, but he isn't an old man. He doesn't look more than thirty-five." "To hear that fiddle you'd think he wasn't twenty," chuckled Roxy. "It's the first time Brother Strang ever came serenading down this road." He did not stay long, but went, trailing music deliciously into the distance.
The fact was, as the reader may perceive, that Miss Roxy had been thawed into an unusual attachment for the little Mara, and this affection was beginning to spread a warming element though her whole being.
It was thieving; in some way it was even worse than that; as if she had committed a a forgery, maybe, Roxy thought. She was conscious she had done something unusually daring and dreadful. She stole off up stairs, shut herself in, and cried as hard as she could cry. Afterward her little brain began to busy itself in many directions.
"That's right," quavered Roxy. "Burkhalter's boy, he had to go to mixin' in when the Culps and the Venables was feudin'; and look what chanced. Nary one o' them families lost a man; but Burkhalter's boy got hisself killed up. Yes, that's what happened to him. Dead. I went to the funeral." "True as Scriptur'," confirmed Zack "reach an' take off, Pros. Johnnie, eat hearty true as you-all set here.
Heman's voice found a pleading level. "Roxy, will you marry me?" "Why, Heman, you 're perfectly ridiculous! At this time o' night, too!" "You answer me!" cried Heman, desperately. "I want you! Won't you have me, Roxy? Say?" "Roxy!" came her mother's muffled voice from the bed. "You'll git your death o' cold. What's he want? Can't you give him an answer an' let him go?"
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