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Updated: June 16, 2025
Yes maam, I wus suah bahn in de slavery times, an I bahn right neah de Little Rock in Arkansas, an dere I stay twell I comed right from dere to heah in Floridy bout foah yeah gone. "Yes maam, my people de liv on a big plantation neah de Little Rock an we all hoe cotton. My Ma? Lawzy me, chile, she name Zola Young an my pappy he name Nelson Young.
"Eugenia, will you never stop talking like a darkey?" she demanded. "How often must I tell you that there's no such word as 'twell'? Now, go right straight upstairs." Eugenia rose obediently and went into the hall. She had learned from her father and the servants not to dispute the authority of Miss Chris, though she yielded to it with a mild surprise at her own docility.
I 'members Miss Meeley des' ez well ez 'twuz yestiddy de day Marse Tom brung her home en de niggers stood a-bowin' en axin' howdy at de gate. She wuz all black en white en cold lookin' twell she smiled, en den it wuz des' like er lightwood blaze in 'er eyes." Uncle Ish nodded dreamily.
"Or else ye've got ter enter inter a new compact." "What's thet?" A ring of hope sounded in the question, since in any fresh deal lies the possibility of better fortune. "Ter go on holdin' yore hand twell this feud business blows over an' I sarves notice on ye thet our own private war's opened up ergin."
"Yo' don' know no one kin guess or comperhen' what des bein' white would mean ter me! Lawd! Lawd!" he says, his voice soft-spoken, but more eager than ever as he went on, and pleading something pitiful to hear, "des think of all de Caucasian blood in me! Gawd knows de nights er my youth I'se laid awake twell de dawn come red in de Eas' a-cryin' out ter Him only fo' ter be white!
De captain ghost he swell' up, an' he swell' up, twell he as big as a house, an' he say' in a voice whut shake' de ground: "Dey ain't no ghosts." So li'l' black Mose he bound to remimber dat, an' he rise' up an' mek' a bow, an' he proceed' toward home right libely. He do, indeed.
I'm goin' to leave you." "Huh uh no you ain', 'cause any place you'd go you wouldn' no more'n git dah twell you'd tu'n erroun' all of er sudden an' say, 'Why, dah's Ben! an' dah I'd be." They chattered on like children while she was putting the supper on the table and he was laving his hot face in the basin beside the door. "I got great news fu' you," he said, as they sat down.
I reckon I kin bide my time twell ye does." "Eagles don't mate with snakes," she shot out at him, with a bosom heaving to the tempest of her disgust. Then she added: "I don't even caution ye ter stay away from this house. I hain't afeared of ye, an' I don't want Cal ter suspicion nothin' but don't come hyar too often ... ye fouls ther air I breathes whenever ye enters hit."
Now I kain't seek ter make ther compact hold over till a fairer time, ner seek ter change hit's terms, nuther, without ye're willin'." "Suppose I hain't willin'?" For answer Parish Thornton sheathed his weapon. "Now," he said with a deadly quiet, "we're on even terms. Either you an' me draws our pistols an' fights twell one of us draps dead or else "
"Custard pie custard pie," she sang, softly, yet unctuously, as she stirred and mingled the materials before her; "custard pie custard pie. Hope ter eat hit twell I die twell I die." Mary Ellen was out in the open air, bonnetless and all a-blow. It was a glorious, sunny day, the air charged with some essence of vital stimulus.
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