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Updated: June 7, 2025
Mars Marrabo couldn' do nuffin' mo' d'n kill 'im an' he mought's well be dead as hidin' in de woods wid nobody ter talk ter er look at ner nuffin'. He had jes' come out 'n de woods an' stahted up dis ve'y road, w'en who sh'd come 'long in a hoss 'n buggy but ole Mars Marrabo, drivin' ober ter dat yuther brickyahd youer gwinter see now.
Yes, seh, Ah'm gittin' th' money reglah gole money none a' this yeh Vaginyah papah-rags money. Ah ain't stahted good when Ah come, but Ah wagah ten hund'ed thousan' dollehs Ah finish up good!" The last was a pointed reference to the Colonel. "Have you seen Colonel Potts lately?" I asked. Clem sniffed.
I happen' dat night to let my haid slide ovuh 'g'in de glass case uv de clock, an when it stahted out to hit de ha'fpas' bell, it rattled an' whizzed, an' it jarred me. Golly, boss! I woke up an', when I seed how it wuz rainin' outside, I thought lightnin' had hit me. It skeered me an' dat is one good way to wake up a nigger at night skeer 'im, an' you don' have to stab him. I sorter hollered.
Hit was 'bout our li'l war what dey stahted an' we finished." The dusky old veteran of many battles unwrapped the small piece of black tobacco in the soiled handkerchief, decided on conservation, and slowly wrapped it up again. "Nex' comes orders from de admiral in Hong Kong to sail fer Rio Janeiro. W'en we drop anchor, dere was some o' da meanes' lookin' wharf rats I evah see.
"But if a game is stahted, I want a hand to play with." His eyes were fixed on the carved front of the governor's desk. There seemed something strange about the carved design. He was seated directly in front of it, in the chair Quiroz had pointed out to him, and for the last few minutes he had wondered what it was that had attracted his attention.
"Then, theah was the herd of peccaries about five miles from wheah they had stahted, sittin' down, resting, a-smilin' at each othah and congratulatin' each othah, I reckon, on the way they had knocked the stuffin' out of that theah ole cyclone fo' good and all.
I never seed yer befo' in my life, an' nebber wants ter see yer ag'in. Whar did yer com f'om anyhow? Whose nigger is yer? Er is yer some low-down free nigger dat doan b'long ter nobody an' doan own nobody? "'W'at fer you talk ter me like dat, honey? I's Ben, yo' Ben. Why doan you know yo' own man? "He put out his ahms fer ter draw her ter 'im, but she jes' gib one yell, an' stahted ter run.
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