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I seen yo' parades, an' meetin's, an' everythin'. I know whah yo' all live, right near the White House. You's alright. I hopes yo' git it, fo' women certainly do need protextion against men like Judge Mullowny. He has us allatime picked up an' sen' down here. What chance has we niggahs got, I ask ya? I hopes yo' all gits a vote an' fixes up somethings for women!"

Sometime gentlemen comes heah in a pow'ful hurry to git away, out'n de harbor whah de English is at." By that time I was dressed, and marvellously uncomfortable in Master Nick's clothes. But as I was going out of the door, Breed hailed me. "Marse Dave," it was the first time I had been called that, "Marse Dave, you ain't gwineter tell?" "Tell what?" I asked.

Yes, seh, sh' ain't doin' nothin' but livin' on huh secon' cousin an' he ain' got nothin' an' Ah lay Ah ain't go'n' a' have that kind a' doin's. No, seh a-livin' on Cunnel Looshe Peavey. Ah'm go'n' a' git huh yeh whah she kin be independent " Again he stopped to see visions. "An' then, afteh a tehible shawt while, Ah git Little Miss fum the educationals an' they both be independent.

In those days the apple tree would be blooming, and the petals would sift down on Gabriella. Looking up at the marriage bell of blossoms, and speaking in the language of her grandmother, she would say: "Milly, when I grow up and get married, I am going to be married out of doors in spring under an apple tree." "I don' know whah I gwine be married," Milly would say with a hoarse, careless cackle.

"Looky out, Marse Frank, he chaw yuh up, clean suah!" bawled Uncle Toby, from the crotch in the tree where his ladder had allowed him to reach. "Git up heah, honey, whah he can't reach yuh. Dat b'ar am ma-ad clar t'rough!" "Four times he's shot didn't I say he couldn't hit the side of a barn. Think of him carrying a Gatling gun," said Jerry. "But he has hit him more than once.

Now, when you see Cunnel Blount come home, he'll come up 'long dat lane, him an' de dogs, an' dem no 'count niggers he done took 'long wid him; an' when he gits up to whah de lane crosses de railroad track, ef he come ridin' 'long easy like, now an' den tootin' his hawn to so'ht o' let us know he's a-comin' ef he do dat-away, dat's all right, dat's all right."

But good Lord, dose chilen don't b'long heah, dey's f'm Obedstown whah dey don't know nuffin, an' you knows, yo' own sef, dat dey ain't 'sponsible.

Breed slapped his thigh. "Marse Nick Temple, Marsa's son. He's 'bout you size, but he ain' no mo' laik you den a Jack rabbit's laik an' owl. Dey ain' none laik Marse Nick fo' gittin' into trouble-and gittin' out agin." "Where is he now?" I asked. "He at Temple Bow, on de Ashley Ribber. Dat's de Marsa's barony." "His what?" "De place whah he lib at, in de country."

"Her face wuz ashy, an' she wuz all o' a shake an' a quake. I took her ovah to some trees whah a watah barr'l stood, an' made her tek a good swill, an' wet her hankchief an' mop her face. Then I walked her off to a quiet place an' says to her, 'Cissy, the Lawd knows I want to see you become a child o' grace, but I don't intend to hev religion jerked an' shouted an' skeered intah you.

Tuh de wood gitting place, tuh de sping, tuh de hoss lot, and evah whah. De anow wuz warm an soft. We piled up so much snow till hit took hit er half er year tuh melt. Dat snow stayed on de groun two months. Ah am de muthah uv five gulls and fo' boys. Didn nairy one uv mah gulls come in de pen till dey wuz mahried. Ah use tuh fish in er big ole fish pond rat down whah de wesson depot is now.