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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?"

"Poor little lily," murmured the negress, in a sympathetic tone, when the girl was able to sit up and look about her. "Where am I?" demanded Nell. "Youse in good hands, chile," answered the black woman. "Your cousin says he'll take you outen dis soon's you can trabbel." "My cousin?" Nell stared at the black, seemingly honest face in wonder.

Dusting a chair and offering it to the visitor, he remained gracefully posed with his hand on the back of another. "Yo' finds us heah yet, Marse Hathaway," he began, elegantly toying with an enormous silver watch-chain, "fo' de Kernel he don' bin find contagious apartments dat at all approximate, and he don' build, for his mind's not dat settled dat he ain't goin' to trabbel.

She could not resent the insult of so aged a man; even if he had not been her grandfather. Rose Stillwater said never a word. It was not it would not have been prudent to speak. To treat the matter as a jest would have offended the Iron King; to have taken it seriously would most justly and unpardonably have offended Corona Rothsay. Truly, Rose found that "Jordan am a hard road to trabbel!"

I got out ter Independence, Missouri, an' was roustaboutin' on de ribber, when a coupple ob men come along what wanted a cook to trabbel wid 'em. I took de job, an' dat's what fetched me here ter Carson City." "But what caused your arrest?" "A conjunction ob circumstances, Massa Jack; yes, sah, a conjunction ob circumstances. I got playin' pokah ober in dat 'Red Light, an' I was doin' fine.

"He desarves deir 'preciation," said Dolf, loftily, with the air of a man so supremely great that he could well afford to allow ordinary people to claim their little virtues unchallenged. "Wal," said Clo, "arter all it needs trabbel and the world to develop a man proper." "Jis' so, Miss Clorindy; yer's allers rezact." He gave her a very tender glance, and Clo giggled in delightful confusion.

The only humorous songs which my uncles knew were negro ditties, like Camp Town Racetrack and Jordan am a Hard Road to Trabbel but in addition to the sad ballads I have quoted, they joined my mother in The Pirate's Serenade, Erin's Green Shore, Bird of the Wilderness, and the memory of their mellow voices creates a golden dusk between me and that far-off cottage.

Tune followed tune with endless fluency and variety polkas, galops, reels, jigs, quadrilles; fragments of airs from many lands "The Fisher's Hornpipe," "Charlie is my Darling," "Marianne s'en va-t-au Moulin," "Petit Jean," "Jordan is a Hard Road to Trabbel," woven together after the strangest fashion and set to the liveliest cadence. It was a magical performance. No one could withstand it.