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"If youse find a horse shoe er put eber de door you will sho has good luck." "Thirteen has always been my lucky number. Dats follish ter thing 'Thirteen is unlucky'. Seben is lucky ter me ter. I always win when I think of a seben." "Of cos now if youse breakes a mirror you cant keep from having bad luck. Nuthin you do will keep you from hit."
"An' now, my dear brev'ren," said Brother Peter, "while I was a-turnin' dis subjec' ober in my min', an' wonderin' how de women come ter hab jus' seben debbils apiece, I done reckerleck dat bit ob Scripter wot I heerd at Kyarter's Mills, an' I reckon dat 'splains how de debbils got inter woman.
"Well, den, if it wasn't seben years, it was as long as ebber anybody could lib dere a-fastin'!" "How did you get out at last, Katie?" "Well, now, Marse Ishmael, begging of your pardon, dat was the curiousest t'ing of all! I dunno no more how I come out'n dat dark den, nor de man in de moon!
"I done ax her six or seben time, but 'pears like I dunno wot she mean when she tell me. P'raps she's one o' ole miss' little gal babies growed up. I tell you, Uncle Isham, she know dis place jes as ef she bawn h'yar." Uncle Isham looked steadily into the fire and rubbed the sides of his head with his big black fingers.
"Am 84 y'ars ole en wuz bawn in Florence, Alabama, 'bout seben miles fum town. Wuz bawn on de Collier plantashun en Marster en Missis wuz James en Jeanette Collier. Mah daddy en mammy wuz named Nelson en Jane Collier. I wuz named atter one ob mah Missis' daughters. Our family wuz neber sold er divided." "I'se bin ma'ied once. Ma'ied Neeley Greer. Thank de Lawd I aint got no chilluns.
Now I axes ebery one ob you all wot know de Scripters ef he don' 'member how de Bible tells how our Lor' when he was on dis yearth cas' seben debbils out o' Mary Magdalum?" A murmur of assent came from the congregation, Most of them remembered that. "But did enny ob you ebber read, or hab read to you, dat he ebber cas' 'em out o' enny udder woman?"
"I suah was clean skairt out ob mah seben senses when yo' come runnin' into mah kitchen, Nan, an' says as how Flossie an' Freddie was buried under de hay!" "And they were!" said Nan. "I saw the hay go down all over them." "So did I!" added Bert. "But we wiggled out and hid so we could fool you!" laughed Freddie. "Didn't you see us crawl out?" "No," answered Bert, "I didn't.
'Cordin' ter de chu'ch books dar's forty-seben women b'longin' to our meetin', an' ef each one ob dem dar has got seben debbils in her, I jus' wants you ter tell me how many debbils come to chu'ch ebery clear Sunday ter hear dat ole Uncle Pete preach."
"They have light hair and blue eyes." The porter thought for a moment. Then he said: "Well, to tell yo' de truff, boss, we has about seben hundred blue-eyed an' light-haired chilluns in heah ebery day, and we has de same number ob dark ones, so it's mighty hard t' 'member 'em all." "Yes, I suppose so. Well, I'll walk about I dare say I shall find them."
"They air jes' all-fired high, an' that's all. Do it make 'em seem enny taller ter say they air six thousand or seben thousand feet? Man ain't used ter medjurin' by the thousand feet. When he gits ter the ground he goes by the pole. I dunno how high nor how long a thousand feet air. The gover'mint jes' want ter spend a leetle money, I reckon.
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