"Ef'n yer'll furgib de ole nigger dis time, marster, he ain't neber gwine run erway no mo' an', mo'n dat, he gwine ter make speshul 'spress 'rangemunce fur ter git up sooner in de mornin'; he is dat, jes sho's yer born!" said the old negro, as he came before his master. "Don't make too many promises, Pomp," kindly replied Mr.
Fortunately, we saw in the store a delightful little bright-red chair and bright-red table, and these we brought home and handed solemnly over to the expectant recipient, explaining that as there unfortunately was not a "'spress" wagon we had brought him back a "'spress" chair and "'spress" table. It worked beautifully!
You see, sah, I wants to say right heah, befo' I goes any furder, dat I don' know noffin 'cept what tuk place under my own obserbation. I don' feel called upon to 'spress no 'pinions 'bout nobody. I jes' wants to state a few recurrences dat I noted at de time, speshally 'bout dem strangers as was heah in pertickeler.
"Dat's jes 'zackly what I do mean, Cousin Nimbus no mistake 'bout dat," answered Berry, bowing towards Nimbus with a great show of mock politeness. "What else did yer tink Berry mean, hey? Didn't my words 'spress demselves cl'ar? Yer know, cousin, dat I'se not one ob de fightin' kine. Nebber hed but one fight in my life, an' den dar wuz jes de wuss whipped nigger you ebber seed.
"All the girls and the cook and the 'spress man and there used to be Miss Drayton and Pat. And there's always Honey-Sweet," continued Anne, giving her doll a hug. "Oh, I must hurry! It's beginning to strike five and Miss Farlow said five o'clock pre-cise-ly. Good-by. And thank you." That Saturday afternoon was the first of many that Anne spent at the brown-stone house next door.
"Me an' Rube wants tab gib somethin' ter spress our 'gratulatins ter Miss Betsy an' Marse Ab; so we presents dese ax-handles whut we'se made oursel's, an' dis bowl whut we'se hollered outen a ash-tree fur a nice bread-tray; an' we wishes you bofe much joy in de road you'se dis day sotten out on in double harnish."
Good old Mammy's eyes were very tender as she looked at her boy, and instead of saying what she had come to say: "ter jist nachelly an' pintedly 'spress her min'," she went close to his side and looking at the lovely face smiling at her, said: "Dar weren't never, an' dar ain' never gwine ter be no sich lady as dat a-one, Massa Neil, lessen it gwine be Miss Peggy.
"The post-office robbed?" cried the boys as Bucephalus began distributing the letters he had in his pouch. "Yas'r an' de station an' de spress office an' mo' dan dat de post-office on de river was visited, too, in de same buglarious fashion an' a big lot o' pussonal property misappropriated by de nocturnal malefactors. Dey done said dat dey was abo't to call on de bank but got skeered off."
"That was las' station," broke in the aggrieved passenger, "an' they wouldn't stop the train there 'cause they said it was a 'spress train and mustn't stop at such little stations " "I tried awful hard to stop her," said the crafty Sullivan at the throttle, "but she got away from me. She did so, now!"
And then, without waiting for a reply: "Miss Sally, she sick in bed, en Mars John, he bleedzd ter go in de country, en dey tuck'n sont me. I know'd you de minnit I laid eyes on you. Time I seed you, I say ter myse'f, 'I lay dar's Miss Doshy, en, sho nuff, dar you wuz. You ain't gun up yo' checks, is you? Kaze I'll git de trunk sont up by de 'spress waggin."