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"I doan' see whaih yo' Ha'ison pride is," she said; "co'se, he may be nice enough, but does you want to tell him yes de fust t'ing, so's he'll t'ink dat you jumped at de chanst to git him an' git back in de homestid?" "Oh, mammy," cried Mima; she had gone all white and cold. "You do' know nothin' 'bout his quality. You a Ha'ison yo'se'f.
"W'y, la, man, Brothah Buford was in co't to-day. Whaih is he? Brothah Buford, whaih you?" But no answer came from the surrounding spectators. Brother Buford had faded away. The old lady, however, after due conventions, was permitted to go home.
"Oh, I got a gent'man friend what 's a porter, an' his run 's been changed so that he comes hyeah, an' he told me, if I wanted to come he 'd bring me thoo fur a visit, so, you see, hyeah I am. I allus was mighty anxious to see this hyeah town. But tell me, how 's Kit an' yo' ma?" "They 're both right well." He had forgotten them and their scorn of Minty. "Whaih do you live?
Oakley, calm yourself." "I will not calm myself. Take him away. He shall not stand here and lie to me." Berry had suddenly turned ashen. "You say you know whaih dat money come f'om? Whaih?" "You stole it, you thief, from my brother Frank's room." "Stole it! My Gawd, Mistah Oakley, you believed a thing lak dat aftah all de yeahs I been wid you?" "You 've been stealing all along."
She had just turned into a side street, discouraged and bewildered, when the round face of a coloured woman standing in the doorway of a whitewashed cottage caught her eye and attention. Once more she paused and consulted her watery oracle, then turned to encounter the gaze of the round-faced woman. The oracle had spoken and she turned into the yard. "Whaih you goin', honey?
You sut'ny look lak you plumb tukahed out. Come in an' tell me all 'bout yo'se'f, you po' little t'ing. Dese yo' little brothas an' sistahs?" "Yes'm," said Patsy Ann. "W'y, chil', whaih you goin'?" "I don' know," was the truthful answer. "You don' know? Whaih you live?" "Oh, I live down on Douglas Street," said Patsy Ann, "an' I's runnin' away f'om home an' my step-mothah."
You 're mekin' it ha'dah fu' me to baih when you talk dat a-way. What you mean? Whaih you think Gawd is?" Joe remained sullenly silent. His mother's faith was too stalwart for his comprehension. There was nothing like it in his own soul to interpret it. "We 'll git de secon'-han' dealah to tek ouah things to-morrer, an' then we 'll go away some place, up No'th maybe."
"La, Brothah Hayward, ef it ain't you; howdy; come in." "Howdy, howdy, Sistah Griggs, how you come on?" "Oh, I's des tol'able," industriously dusting a chair. "How's yo'se'f?" "I's right smaht, thankee ma'am." "W'y, Brothah Hayward, ain't you los' down in dis paht of de town?" "No, indeed, Sistah Griggs, de shep'erd ain't nevah los' no whaih dey's any of de flock."
If we find him we are going to send him where he won't inveigle any more innocent people into rascality, and you're going to help us." "W'y, sut'ny, chile, I'll do all I kin to he'p you git dat rascal, but I don't know whaih he lives, case he's allus come hyeah to see me." "He'll come back some day. In the meantime we will be laying for him."
Dah go de gong! I knowed dat wasn't no staht. Troop back dah, you raskils, hyah, hyah. "I wush dat boy wouldn't do so much jummying erroun' wid dat hoss. Fust t'ing he know he ain't gwine to know whaih he's at. "Dah, dah dey go ag'in. Hit's a sho' t'ing dis time. Bettah, Jim, bettah. Dey didn't leave you dis time. Hug dat bay mare, hug her close, boy. Don't press dat hoss yit.
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