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No, you ain' dead! you's back agin, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huck de same ole Huck, thanks to goodness!" "What's the matter with you, Jim? You been a-drinking?" "Drinkin'? Has I ben a-drinkin'? Has I had a chance to be a-drinkin'?" "Well, then, what makes you talk so wild?" "How does I talk wild?"
"We yeard de soun' fum far away, en we year it agin soon." Meanwhile Mad Whately was closeted with his uncle and mother, listening with a black frown to all that had occurred. "I tell you," exclaimed the young man, "it's as clear as the sun in the sky that she should be sent away at once in fact, that you all should go." "I won't go," said Mr. Baron, "neither will my wife.
First, it was "Treat my daughter kind-i-ly," and then she swung into old-fashioned darky camp-meeting hymns, beginning with: "Oh! de Judgmen' Day am rollin' roan', Rollin', yes, a-rollin', I hear the trumpets' awful soun', Rollin', yes, a-rollin'." A big touring car, dashing past, threw a dusty pause in her singing, and Saxon delivered herself of her latest wisdom.
Dat night, all de sho' 'nough white men came a-marchin' out Seventh Street on dey way to de quarters. "I had did up Miss Lizzie's parlor curtains dat very day an' de boy was puttin' up de mouldin' frame 'roun' 'em when us hear dat trompin' soun'. It didn' soun' lak no ever'day marchin'. It soun' lak Judgement Day. De boy fell off de ladder an' run an' hid b'hind de flour barrel in de pantry.
I' the winter ye canna see, for it's aye cauld whan the sun's awa; and though it's no cauld the nicht, I fin' that there's no licht i' the air there's a differ; it's deid-like. But the soun' o' the water's a' the same, and the smell o' some o' the flowers is bonnier i' the nicht nor i' the day. That's a' verra weel. But hoo ye can see whan the sun's awa, I say again, jist passes my comprehension."
"Brer Rabbit talk so happy en talk so sweet dat Brer Fox he jump in de bucket, he did, en, ez he went down, co'se his weight pull Brer Rabbit up. W'en dey pass one nudder on de half-way growl', Brer Rabbit he sing out: "'Good-by, Brer Fox, take keer yo' cloze, Fer dis is de way de worl' goes; Some goes up en some goes down, You'll git ter de bottom all safe en soun'. *1
I'se an ole man an' has had my shar ob 'sperence, an' I'se alus 'served dat de hitch come in at de 'plyin' part. Dere's a sight ob preachin' dat soun' as true an' straight as dat de sun an' rain make de cotton grow, but when you git down to de berry indewidooel cotton plant dere's ofen de debil to pay in one shape or oder.
To quote once more the oracular words of the Ettrick orator and poet, "Ane gets tired o' that eternal soun' Blackwood's Magazeen, Blackwood's Magazeen dinnin' in ane's lugs, day and nicht!" So vast and so varied I suppose to be the commercial relations of Reprint & Co., and such, beyond a doubt, is Maga's empire in America. No more by this steamer.
This was true of Uncle Lusthah and the majority. The crack of Union rifles was the "soun' f'um far away" they were listening for. By secret channels of communication tidings of distant battles were conveyed from plantation to plantation, and the slaves were often better informed that their masters.
"Sally Carrol, we're here!" "Poor chile's soun' asleep." "Honey, you dead at last outa sheer laziness?" "Water, Sally Carrol! Cool water waitin' for you!" Her eyes opened sleepily. "Hi!" she murmured, smiling. In November Harry Bellamy, tall, broad, and brisk, came down from his Northern city to spend four days.
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