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"Thu black ain't in thu runnin' with thu bay; an' she ain't in her class, nuther," had been his unequivocal opinion when approached on that topic. "Thu one's good enough to put yuh wad on fer a quick spurt, but yuh kin trus' yuah life on thu otheh. Thu filly fer me, every time." But then Red was in love, and that always has a strongly modifying influence on one's convictions.
She gun 'im some stuff w'at look' lack it be'n made by poundin' up some roots en yarbs wid a pestle in a mo'tar. "'Dis yer stuff, sez she, 'is monst'us pow'ful kin' er goopher. You take dis home, en gin it ter de cook, ef you kin trus' her, en tell her fer ter put it in yo' marster's soup de fus' cloudy day he hab okra soup fer dinnah. Min' you follers de d'rections.
"Now I think we make plenty marriage; then we go for live in your house." Ramon turned and caught her unexpectedly in his arms. "Ah, now you spik foolish talk. Yoh not trus' Ramon! Why yoh talk pries', pries' all time? Lov', she's plenty pries' for us. Pries' she don' make us more lov' each other pries' don' make us happy we like birds that make nes' in tree-tops.
"Dar's nearer er dozen," rejoined Betsey with offended pride, "dar's nearer er dozen 'cordin' ter de way I count." "Dar now!" cried Aunt Verbeny. "I ain' never trus' no nigger's cac'lations yit, en I ain' gwine ter now. When I wants countin', I want white folks' countin'."
"So I is, massa awrful trus'ful! Kin trus' you wid a'most anyt'ing. Trus' dis yer Injin gal wid untol' gol'. Trus' Sooz'n wid de whole world, an' eberyt'ing else besides, but I's not quite so sure about dis yer Pedro. Di'n't he say dar's noos to tell, an' he wants help, an' der's mischif a-brewin'? An' ain't I sure 'nuff dat he's got suffin to do wid de mischif, or he wouldn't be so secret?"
"How I calls yoh wife when I not gets one kees, me? Now I calls yoh la sweetheart good enough when I no gets so moch as touches hand weeth yoh." "I go way with you, you gets priest for make us marry?" Annie-Many-Ponies edged closer so that she might read what was in his face. "Why yoh no trus' Ramon? Sure, I gets padre! W'at yoh theenk for speak lies, me? Sure, I gets padre, foolish one!
I tells you dis bin on my min' and in Ham's head, too. We trus' in de good Laud; and you, Marsa Gen'l, you kin fix dis. I's sure you kin. De good Laud spare you for dis; I know he do.
After the leaves have been all placed in order and stuck on, bit by bit, a solder is prepared of gold filings and borax, moistened with water, which they strew or daub over the plate with a feather, and then putting it in the fire for a short time the whole becomes united. This kind of work on a gold plate they call karrang papan: when the work is open, they call it karrang trus.
I pick' 'im up in my arms wid de fleg still in he han's, an' toted 'im back jes' like I did dat day when he wuz a baby, an' ole marster gin 'im to me in my arms, an' sez he could trus' me, an' tell me to tek keer on 'im long ez he lived. I kyar'd 'im 'way off de battlefiel' out de way o' de balls, an' I laid 'im down onder a big tree till I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me.
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