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Dey's generally on time fo' supper. But, den, t'ings are so upset dese days dat only de Lo'd knows what's goin' to happen next." Then she began to sing in a subdued voice the Twenty-third psalm, the only piece she knew. "I hab no doubt about de Lo'd bein' my Shepa'd," she commented, "an' I guess He'll not let me want. But He hasn't led me into green past'rs dis time.
When he saw that he had but a choice between two dangers, he prudently took that which seemed to be the least, replying that, "all t'ings 'sidered, 'twould be 'bout as well to tote off to de settlement, and guv de news to de folks dar." He added that he was not influenced by "pussonal fear, but was simply actin' on de advice ob de Leftenant." Accordingly, Cato took his departure.
"I doan't know how he know, Mistah Damon," replied Eradicate, "but he do know, jest de same. I know hit would be laik pullin' teeth an' wuss too, t' git Boomerang t' start back wid dem foosd t'ings until after he's had his dinner. Wouldn't it, Boomerang?" The mule waved his long ears as if in answer. "Bless my soul, I believe he does understand!" cried Mr. Damon.
"I dun thought yo' was a-wantin' ob Ole Ben," grinned the colored man. "I seed yo' rowin' off an' I didn't see yo' cum back, so I says to myself, 'Da is stuck fast on de wreck. An' den I says, 'Da aint got nuffin to eat. So ober I comes, an' wid a basketful of good t'ings from de plantation." And he held up the market basket.
"But I had a little business wid Mag, an' I was kind of interested in whether she was entertainin' company or not see? I didn't know youse an' Mag was workin' together." "Mabbe," observed Jimmie Dale, as ungraciously as before, "mabbe dere's some more t'ings youse don't know!" "Aw, cough up de grouch!" advised the Magpie, with a hint of impatience creeping into his voice.
I hain't growed ez you hev. I hain't no mo' man dan I was den not so much, in fac'. I don't keer now no mo' 'bout what's a-gwine ter be. I'se an' ole man, 'Liab an' ole man, of I is young." That night he told his story to a breathless auditory. "Yes, Bre'er 'Liab, dar's a heap o' t'ings happened sence dat ar mornin' I lef' you h'yer wid Marse Hesden.
Den de fruit ship, dey can' mak' lan', de mans, dey t'reaten an' say t'ings. Dey mak' big fight, yaas. Dere no mo' work on de levee, lak dat. Ever'body jus' walk roun' an' say cuss word, yaas!" "Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" groaned Madame Garcia, rocking her guinea-blue-clad self to and fro. Mr.
You jes mark my words, ef dese t'ings keep a-gwine on, niggers'll be skeerce in dis kentry purty soon. We can't be worse off, go whar we will, an' I jes count a cullu'd man a fool dat don't pole out an' git away jest ez soon ez he finds a road cut out dat he kin trabbel on." "But that was three years ago, Nimbus," said Hesden. "Where have you been since?"
"I 'spect dey's as tired as a fish mus' be of de water," said Maria. She had a fine specimen under her hand at the moment, which I suppose suggested the figure. "Then why do they not come as usual, Maria? there were only a few last night." "Dere was so few, it was lonesome," said Maria. "Then what is the reason?" "Dere is more reasons for t'ings, den Maria can make out," she said thoughtfully.
"That is the name of the book," said Tole. In describing its wonders he lost, for the first time, some of his imperturbable air. "Wa! Wa! All is so cheap inside that book. It is wonderful. Three suits of clothes cost no more as one at the Company store. "Everyt'ing is in that book. A man can get shirts of silk. A man can get a machine to milk a cow. All the people want to send money for t'ings.
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