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Updated: June 15, 2025
An' Id'no what ye done to him thar, an' I spose it's no good to ask a feller like ye; but he ain't ben the same man sence. That's how he is. He uster be chipper, an' peart, an' clost frens with me; an' now he don't say nothin. Ye can see fur yerself pooty durn soon." And the native bestowed on me a malign glance. Those who like nature unadorned can find it here.
"Wen we were young we uster hev parties called "Dideoos", de banjo would play en den de girls would line up on one side of de cabin en de boys on de tother side while the folks war a clappin en er playing why de boys en girls wuld choose dar parrners den weuns sing: "Ole Brer Rabbit, Shake it, shake it, How I love you, Shake it, shake it. I'd ruther play dat game dan to eat."
As he looked closer into his wide, round face, seamed with small-pox, he fancied he saw even in its fatuous imbecility something of that haunting devotion he had seen on the refined features of the wife. He said more gently, "But one friend like you would seem to be enough." "I ain't what I uster be, Mr. Breeze," said the man meditatively, "and mebbe ye don't know who I am.
"Mine's Andrews, John Andrews." "Ma dad uster have a hired man named Andy. Took sick an' died last summer. How long d'ye reckon it'll be before us-guys git overseas?" "God, I don't know." "Ah want to see that country over there." "You do?" "Don't you?" "You bet I do." "All right, what you fellers stand here for? Go and dump them garbage cans.
She'd been at it for an hour, and was as black as a gin, they said. She only said when they'd turned the fire: 'Thenk yer! Wait an' I'll make some tea. After tea the first Sunday she came to see us, Mary asked 'Don't you feel lonely, Mrs Spicer, when your husband goes away? 'Well no, Mrs Wilson, she said in the groping sort of voice. 'I uster, once.
It's a little gal as uster hunger and thirst ez quiet and mannerly ez she now eats and drinks in plenty; whose voice was ez steady with Injins yelling round her nest in the leaves on Sweetwater ez in her purty cabin up yonder. THAT'S the gal ez I know!
"Can't you tell me, old man? Ain't we still pardners? Just as we uster be?" He peered through the darkness, roused from his misery in the stillness of the hour, and the night, by the appeal. Dimly he discerned, seated above him on the abutment, a shape outlined against the stars. It threw itself down with hard-striking feet, and came toward him, and he knew it was not a phantom of misery.
There were days when no one saw Mary, when her cabin was closed and locked; but after such absences she came to Ridge House and worked with a fervour that flavoured of apology. She gazed long upon Joan before she spoke. It was not surprise she showed, but a slow understanding. "Miss Joan," she said at last, "seems like you ain't got the world by the tail like you uster have."
I'se seem to remember de big days we uster hav on Proclamation Day wen we used ter go to Grandmums who lived in Trigg County.
I only jest know they come over from some place with a funny name in the Old Country before I was born. The onliest kin I ever had over here was that there no-'count triflin' nephew of mine Perce Dwyer him that uster hang round this town. I reckin you call him to mind, Judge?"
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