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Updated: June 7, 2025
After a while it fizzled out to nothing at all, and the Persimmon asked in a queer manner: "Did you give Tump some women's clo'es, Peter?" It was such an odd question that at first Peter was at loss; then he recalled Nan Berry's despatching Cissie some underwear. He explained this to the Persimmon, and tacked on a curious, "Why?" "Oh, nothin'; nothin' 'tall.
If these troubles lead to war almost all of us will go into the army, and we do not like the thought of the possibility of troubles among the hands when the whites are all away." "I will find out all about it for you to-night, sah. I don't suspect dat dey will do nuffin to-day. Andrew Jackson too sick after dat knock against de tump. He keep quiet a day or two."
Drayton, who knew the Cotswolds, and wrote poetry about the district, uses the expression "frim pastures." "Plym" is the swelling of wood when it is immersed in water; and "thilk," another Anglo-Saxon word, means thus or the same. A mole in the Gloucestershire dialect is an "oont" or "woont." A barrow or mound of any kind is a "tump."
"Weh-ul," dragged out Nan, with a long face, "of co'se now it's lak dis: ef Cissie goin' to stay in dat ja-ul, she's goin' to need some mo' clo'es 'cep'n whut she's got on, specially lak she is." Tump stared down the swing of the crescent. "'Fo' Gawd, dis sho don' seem lak hit's right to me," he said. Nan let herself out at the rickety gate.
Peter leaned over her with a drumming heart; he heard her catch her breath. "You don't care for Tump?" he asked with a dry mouth. She gasped out something, and the next moment Peter felt her body sink limply in his groping arms. They clung together closely, quiveringly.
Ta tump ti tum ti tump tump what do those words of yours mean?" "Perhaps this Barry Elder," said Ri-Ri with averted eyes, her hands fluttering the pages, "perhaps he is the one that Leila Grey's attention was upon. Did you not hear that?" "Who? Barry?" "Has he not," said the girl desperately, "become recently more desirable to her more rich, perhaps "
The three negroes stood motionless in the dusty hallway, motionless save for the racking of Vannie's sobs. Tump Pack stirred himself. "Well, we gotta git her out." His words trailed off. He stood wrinkling his half-inch of brow. "I wonder would dey exchange pris'ners; wonder ef I could go up an' serve out Cissie's term." "Oh, Tump!" gasped the woman, "ef you only could!"
The rear crew is the place of honour, let me tell you. The old timers used to take a great pride in belonging to a crack rear on a big drive. When you get one side of the river working against the other, it's great fun. I've seen some fine races in my day." At this moment two men swung up the river trail, bending to the broad tump lines that crossed the tops of their heads.
The soldier made no attempt to rise, but curled up, twisting in agony. Peter stood in the dust-cloud, wabbly, with roaring head. His open mouth was full of dust. Then he became aware that negroes were running in from every direction, shouting. Their voices whooped out what had happened, who it was, who had licked. Tump Pack's agonized spasms brought howls of mirth from the black fellows.
A certain penitence for having been irritated at Tump softened Peter. "That's all right, Tump; there's nothing to find." At that moment the soldier began to bob his head. "Eh! eh! eh! W-wait a minute!" he stammered. "Whut dis? B'lieve I done foun' it! I sho is! Heah she am! Heah's dis nigger-stopper, jes lak I tol' you!"
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