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Updated: June 1, 2025
Whut's the good of my bein' the circuit judge of this district without I've got influence enough with the county clerk to see that a small real-estate transaction kin be kept frum pryin' eyes?
He took off his hat when Isom answered, to wipe the dust and perspiration from his face, and the boy saw a white scar across his forehead. A little awestricken, the lad walked towards him. "Air you the new rider whut's goin' to preach up to Hazlan?" he asked. Raines smiled at the solemnity of the little fellow. "Yes," he said, kindly. "Won't you come up and hear me?"
"Uh huh; I desuhted 'em." Jim Pink shook his head, picked up a pebble, and began idly juggling it, making it appear double, single, treble, then single again. "Too many divo'ces in dis country now, Persimmon," he moralized. "Well, whut's de cause uv 'em?" asked the Persimmon, suddenly bringing his protruding yellow eyes around on the sleight-of-hand performer.
"Now, Cissy," she said, coming to the girl's room one night and finding her sobbing over disappointed hopes, "don't you s'pose yer own mammy'll do whut's best fur her dautah? You mustn't think 'cause I'm sharp an' stirrin' with you thet I don't love you." She seated herself on the side of the bed and began to stroke Susan's hair. "'Tain't no use fur you to tek on so.
"Whut's that over thar?" he exploded, pointing to where the carcass of Elfreda's bear was faintly discernible, hanging by its hocks from a pole suspended between two trees. The constable strode over and peered at what was left of Mr. Bruin. "So, that's what yer up to in these 'ere mountings, eh?" Hippy shrugged his shoulders. "You win," he said. "What is the answer?"
"Look hyeah, Mis' M'ree," she exclaimed, without the formality of prefacing her remarks, "I wants to know whut's de mattah wif Brothah Simon what mek him ac' de way he do?" "Why, I do not know, Eliza, what has Uncle Simon been doing?" "Why, some o' you all mus' know, lessn' he couldn' 'a' done hit. Ain' he ax you nuffin', Marse Gawge?" "Yes, he did have some talk with me." "Some talk!
Crowds ain't goin' pester that lady-mare none. Music ain't goin' disturb her none whutsoever, neither." "Whut's her reg'lar gait?" "Her reg'lar gait is standin' still. But w'en she's travelin' at her bestest speed she uses the cemetery walk.
He held up a hand with an earnestness that caught their vagrant attention. "Listen!" he pleaded. "Can't you see how much there is for us black folks to do, and what little we have done?" "Sho is a lot to do; we admits dat," said Bluegum Frakes. "But whut's de use doin' hit ef we kin manage to shy roun' some o' dat wuck an' keep on libin' anyhow, specially wid wages so high?"
"One day us li'l cullud chullun was frollicin' out in de front yard an' Mis' Nancy an' some mo' was settin' on de po'ch an' all of a sudden I see somebuddy comin' down de road an' I says 'Look, whut's dat? "An' white folks run to de woods an' hid out caze dey seen hit was Calv'ry 'bout a mile long comin' down de road.
"Ol' Massa's money an', Miss, he hain't had much since de War; jus' 'nuff to live comfutable all go in de Cotesville bank crash las' fall an' he doan want ol' Mis' foh to know. I'se de only one o' de niggers whut's left, an' dere's only one ol' turkey gobbler left o' de stock. He's my ol' pet, Miss, mos' like a chile, an' an' " Uncle Noah choked. The girl's eyes were misty velvet.
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