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"Well, boss, they sutny done it to us again to-day. Look like it gittin' to be a habit on thisyere track!" Thus, querulously, Jockey Moseby Jones, otherwise Little Mose, as he trudged dejectedly across the infield beside his employer, Old Man Curry, owner of Elisha, Elijah, Ezekiel, Isaiah, and other horses bearing the names of major and minor prophets.
No use in running Isaiah's head off trying to ketch her. I want you to finish second, understand? Isaiah can beat all these other hosses. Don't pay no 'tention to the mare. Let her go." Little Mose nodded. "'At Fieldmouse is sutny a goin' fool when 'ey bet stable money on huh," said he. "Let 'at ole mare go, eh?" "Exackly," said the old man, "but be sure you beat the rest of 'em."
After reflection he spoke, dropping his words slowly, one by one. "Weaver and Murphy and Engle.... It says in Ecclesiastes that a threefold cord is not easily broken, but I reckon it might be done, one cord at a time.... Well, Mose, they've made us take the medicine!" "Sutny did!" chirped the little negro. "But they'll never git us to lick the spoon!"
"Sutny he done it a-purpose. He cut in on us an' knocked us agin the rail. Come from 'way outside to do it." Old Man Curry began to take the saddle off the colt. A tall man in a rubber coat, gum boots, and a uniform cap arrived on the scene, panting after his run from the grand stand.
Hayward flashed a quick upward glance at his hostess' face and then repeated slowly, "Yes'm, dat sutny is de trufe. I ain't nevah t'ought o' that befo'. Hit ain't no ha'dah lookin' out fu' two dan hit is fu' one," and though he was usually an incessant talker, he lapsed into a brown study. Be it known that the Rev. Mr.
He say he ketch you by the hoss; so you come roun' tryin' fix me up with Whitey so white man grab me, th'ow me in 'at jail. G'on 'way f'um hyuh, you Abalene! You cain' sell an' you cain' give Whitey to no cullud man 'in 'is town. You go an' drowned 'at ole hoss, 'cause you sutny goin' to jail if you git ketched drivin' him."
Then looking around the room at the piles of ironed clothes, he added: "You sutny is a indust'ious ooman." "I was des 'bout finishin' up some i'onin' I had fu' de white folks," smiled Sister Griggs, taking down her ironing-board and resting it in the corner.
Mose, yonder goes the man we've got to beat!" "Him too, boss?" Little Mose rolled his eyes. "Hawsses, judges, jocks, an' Johnson! Sutny is a tough card to beat!" "'A just man falleth seven times and riseth up again," repeated the old man, "'but the wicked shall fall into mischief. That's the rest of the verse, Mose."
"He ain' say jes say he want he shut. He sutny is comical he layin' down in de baid." Then, having relieved his mind, Eph went to sleep in the cradle. "'Layin' down in de baid?" quoted the woman to herself as she moved about the room. "I 'ain' nuver hern 'bout dat befo'. Dat sutny is a comical ole man anyways.
"We'll rub him down with grass. See how easy it comes off an' don't leave no marks neither. Mebbe you betteh not say anythin' to yo' boss 'bout this." "Say, you don't think I'm a fool, do you?" "Sutny not! I see yo' a pretty wise kid, all right!" "If I could only get that reg'lar job you was talkin' about!" "It boun' to come, jock, boun' to come!
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