United States or Fiji ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Mad acted as if he owned me already when he was home last, and yet he knows I can't abide him. He seems to think I can be subdued like one of his skittish horses." "You HAB got a heap on yo' min", Miss Lou, you sho'ly hab. You sut'ny t'ink too much for a young gyurl." "I'm eighteen, yet uncle and aunt act toward me in some ways as if I were still ten years old. How can I help thinking?
Buford. He turned down the collar of his coat which he had had closely up about his face and said: "Well, well, Sis' Callender, you sut'ny have spoiled us all." "La, Brothah Buford, come in hyeah an' set down. Whaih you been?" "I been hidin' fu' feah of that testimony you give in the court room. What did you do that fu'?" "La, me, I didn't know, you didn't 'splain to me in de fust."
Nancy had come to herself now, and casting her eyes up in an excess of Christian zeal, she said: "Well, she wouldn't let me do nuffin' fu' huh in life, but I sut'ny shell try to do my duty by huh in death," and drying her hands and throwing a shawl over her head, she hastened over to her dead enemy's house.
"Oh, Miss Lou," she whispered breathlessly, "I des got de orfulest, quarest news, en I darsn't kep hit eny longer. Marse cap'n en Mad Whately gwine ter fight 'bout you fo' sun-up." "What!" "Dey sut'ny is. Dey gwine ter fight one anoder 'bout you wid 'volvers fight ter de deth dey said. I yeared dem troo de dine-room winders." "Oh, Zany! this is horrible!" "Hit mout be wuss. Yo' cousin hot fer hit.
Ole Unc' Sampson po'ful on spooks. He libed so long he get ter be sorter spook hesef, en dey say he talk ter um haf de time 'fo' he kiner des snuf out'n lak a can'l." "He wuz a silly old fool," growled Perkins, with a perceptible tremor in his voice. "Spect he wuz 'bout some tings," resumed Jute, "but know spooks, he sut'ny did.
You sut'ny look lak you plumb tukahed out. Come in an' tell me all 'bout yo'se'f, you po' little t'ing. Dese yo' little brothas an' sistahs?" "Yes'm," said Patsy Ann. "W'y, chil', whaih you goin'?" "I don' know," was the truthful answer. "You don' know? Whaih you live?" "Oh, I live down on Douglas Street," said Patsy Ann, "an' I's runnin' away f'om home an' my step-mothah."
"I will see that our men are well cared for. I am not responsible for the others." "But I am, and all must fare alike. Cook, prepare a nice light breakfast for all the wounded men before you do anything else." "Yes, mars'r, I 'bey you, I sut'ny will." Scoville strode away to attend to other duties. Mrs. Baron glared after him and then at Aun' Suke, who at once began her work.
You' daddy sut'ny mus' 'a' weakened 'way down 'fo' he let you wear his low-cut ves' an' pants an' long-tail coat! I bet any man fifty cents you gone an' stole 'em out aftuh he done went to bed!" And he burst into a wild, free African laugh. At seventeen such things are not embarrassing; they are catastrophical. But, mercifully, catastrophes often produce a numbness in the victims.
The woman looked keenly at her. "What yo' name?" she said. "My name's Patsy Ann Meriweather." "An' is yo' got a step-mothah?" "No," said Patsy Ann, "I ain' got none now, but I's sut'ny 'spectin' one." "What you know 'bout step-mothahs, honey?" "Mis' Gibson tol' me. Dey sho'ly is awful, missus, awful." "Mis' Gibson ain' tol' you right, honey. You come in hyeah and set down.
"Marse Whately des set out ter mar'y you, ez ef you wuz a post dat cud be stood up en mar'd to enybody at eny time. Hi! Miss Lou, I'se bettah off dan you, fer I kin pick en choose my ole man." "Everybody in the world is better off than I am." "I wudn't stan' it, Miss Lou. I sut'ny wudn't. I'd runned away." "How could I run away? Where could I go to?"
Word Of The Day