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"De w'ite folks don' want too good an opinion er de niggers, ef dey had a good opinion of 'em, dey wouldn' have no excuse f er 'busin' an' hangin' an' burnin' 'em. But ef dey can't keep from doin' it, let 'em git de right man! Dis way er pickin' up de fus' nigger dey comes across, an' stringin' 'im up rega'dliss, ought ter be stop', an' stop' right now!"

The situation was certainly an incomprehensible one, and savored of the supernatural. "Ef dat's me gwine 'long in front," mused Sandy, in vinous perplexity, "den who is dis behin' here? Dere ain' but one er me, an' my ha'nt wouldn' leave my body 'tel I wuz dead. Ef dat's me in front, den I mus' be my own ha'nt; an' whichever one of us is de ha'nt, de yuther must be dead an' don' know it.

De good Lord knows Marse Greer didn' 'vite 'em! "When word come dat dey was comin', it soun' lak a moanin' win' in de quarter. Ever'body was a-sayin', 'De Yankees is comin'! De Yankees is comin'! Us chullun was scared, but it was lak Sund'y, too, nobody doin' nothin'. Us march' 'roun' de room an' sorter sing-lak, 'De Yankees is comin'! De Yankees is comin'! Dey wouldn' let us out in de big road.

She laughed, guardedly on Mesmie's account, but it was a taunting, disdainful laugh that cut him to the quick. "Listen to dat!" she sneered. "An' Marse John done said he wouldn' trust you in jail!" "Den how-cum he taken me wid 'im to find dat man Marse Dale done shoot?" the outraged old man, at last taking the bait, triumphantly dashed off with it.

'F y' ever rid on that seddle once, y' wouldn' try it ag'in, very spry, not 'f y' c'd haälp y'rsaälf. I tried it, darned 'f I sot daown f'r th' nex' week, ëat all my victuals stan'in'. I sh'd like t' hev them things wal enough to heng up 'n the stable; 'f y' want t' trade some day, fetch 'em along daown."

"I wouldn' tell you the trouble ef I could he'p it, Miss Sally," he said pleadingly, his hands shut about his knees, his eyes beseeching as a fawn's. "Ef they wuz inny way to make things come aout rat lessen I told, I wouldn' tell. But I don' see no way." It was easier to talk up to the thing and around the thing, than to get directly into it.

"I had a sister name Lytie Holly who didn' stand back on non' uv em; when dey'd git behin' her, she'd git behin' dem; she wuz dat stubbo'n and when dey would beat her she wouldn' holler and jes take it and go on.

Give way, all! . . . There's no need," he assured her, sinking his voice; "I never saw ye look a properer sight. Maybe 'tis the bunch o' ribbon sets 'ee off 'Tis the first time ye've worn colour to my recollection." "Dead black never suited me." "I wouldn' say that. . . . But," added Cai upon a happy thought, "if that's so, you know where to find excuse to leave off wearin' it."

"I jess ez leeve go 's not," said Jabez Flint, the Tory, "only they wouldn' hev nothin tew say ter me ez wuz a Tory." "Ef I were ten year younger, I'd go in a minute," said Israel Goodrich, "but my jints is kinder stiff. Abner, thar, he'd orter go, by rights." "Why don' ye go, Abner? Ye ain't scairt o' speakin tew Squire, be ye!" said Peleg.

"Will you tell me what you mean, Thomas Johnson, by not telling me this before?" I demanded indignantly. Thomas quailed. "Mis' Louise wouldn' let me," he said earnestly. "I wanted to. She ought to 'a' had a doctor the night she came, but she wouldn' hear to it. Is she is she very bad, Mis' Innes?" "Bad enough," I said coldly. "Send Mr. Innes up."