United States or Aruba ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Who writ up No'th an' got a preacher sent to us, an' de fun's ter buil' dis same chu'ch-house we're settin' in ter-night? Who got de money f'm de Bureau to s'port de school? An' when dat was stop', who got de money f'm de Peabody Fun'? Talk about Miss Noble gittin' a sal'ry! Who paid dat sal'ry up ter five years ago? Not one dollah of it come outer ou' pockets!
"Then," said the old man, "what's we ter do fer a libbin'? Here's half er two thirds ob dis crowd likely ter be turned off afore to-morrer night. Now what's yer gwine ter do 'bout it? We's got ter lib an' so's our wives an' chillens? How's we gwine ter s'port dem widout home or wuk?" "Let them git wuk wid somebody else, that's all," said Nimbus.
"I say, Joe," said one, "blamed ef it 'taint too bad; you and me spendin' our time this way! The ole woman's mos' broke 'r heart over me t'day. Sh' said I ought be the s'port 'f her ole dage, 'stid 'f boozin' roun' thish yer way. 'S so! Tell you, Joe, 's so! Blam'd 'f 'taint. Hey? W'at y' say? Hey?" "Of course 'tis, Ben," growled the other; "we all know that.
You don' mean ter tell me dat you's got 'nuf apple-trees in your little gyardin fur ter shake down three bar'ls o' apples." "Now look a-heah, Brudder 'Bijah," said Grandison, his eyes sparkling with righteous indignation, "dat's too much 'to 'spec' ob a man who's got ter work all day to s'port his wife an' chillun. I digs, an' I plows, an' I plants, an' I hoes.
"Oh, I didn't mean to question that," I hastened to apologize with some confusion. "Only you seemed so very young, I thought you were just joking me." "Well, it's no joke to be married and have a baby, specially when you've got to s'port it," returned the girl, her lips still pouting. "And you've a baby, too you!"
She could play a fiddle good as a man. 'My father he cried, my mother she cried, I wasn' cut out fer de army. O, Capt'in Gink, my hoss me think, But feed his hoss on co'n an' beans An s'port de gals by any means! 'Cause I'm a Capt'in in de army. "All us chullun begged ter play dat an' we all sing an' dance great goodness! 'Let me nigh, by my cry, Give me Jesus.
A'nt I able t' s'port m'own fam'ly, I'd like t' know?" muttered the drunken wretch, as he fell a loathsome heap upon the straw in the corner of the room.
Word Of The Day