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"Well, you see, it 'uz dis way. Ole missus dat's Miss Watson she pecks on me all de time, en treats me pooty rough, but she awluz said she wouldn' sell me down to Orleans. But I noticed dey wuz a nigger trader roun' de place considable lately, en I begin to git oneasy.
Hit took 'im long up to de shoulders. Den he waded back, an' took Miss Anne up on his head an' kyared her right over. At fust she wuz skeered; but he tol' her he could swim an' wouldn' let her git hu't, an' den she let 'im kyar her 'cross, she hol'in' his han's. I warn' 'long dat day, but he sut'n'y did dat thing.
"Dey's de queeres' lot o' tramps Ah eveh did see, an' Ah wouldn' trust 'em 's fer as Ah could heave a brick house." "But the leader is such a very courteous gentleman," remonstrated Beverly. "Yas, ma'am; he mussa came f'm Gawgia or Kaintuck," was Aunt Fanny's sincere compliment. The pseudo-princess dined with the vagabonds that night.
Her marster wuz a good-natured kind er man, en' would 'a' kep' her on de plantation. But his wife say no, it 'ud nebber do ter be lett'n' de sarvants hab dey own way, er dey soon wouldn' be no doin' nuthin' wid 'em. Ole marster tole 'er he done promus ter let Cindy marry Skundus. "'O, well, sez ole Miss, 'dat doan' cut no figger.
I 'uz hungry, but I warn't afeard; bekase I knowed ole missus en de widder wuz goin' to start to de camp-meet'n' right arter breakfas' en be gone all day, en dey knows I goes off wid de cattle 'bout daylight, so dey wouldn' 'spec to see me roun' de place, en so dey wouldn' miss me tell arter dark in de evenin'. De yuther servants wouldn' miss me, kase dey'd shin out en take holiday soon as de ole folks 'uz out'n de way.
"An' I reckon I wouldn' ha' let my po' lil' half-wit chile go if I could ha' helped it. When Mason licked him down The Way o' mornin' it made the soul o' me sick. When the factory burned I thanked A'mighty God for, starvin' or not starvin, the po' lil' feller couldn't go!
"Well, de Lord knows I'm 'feerd to go," said Martha; "but ef I sot up for preachin', 'peers to me I wouldn' be'feerd to sass witches nor goses, nor nuffin' else." "I don't preach no time but Sundays, an' dis ain't Sunday," said Uncle Humphrey. "Hy, nigger!" exclaimed Martha in desperation, "is you gwine to go back on de Lord cos 'tain't Sunday? How come you don't trus' on Him week-a-days?"
Miss M'ree, dat may 'splain t'ings to you, but hit ain' mek 'em light to me yit." "Now, Mrs. Marston" began her husband, chuckling. "Hush, I tell you, George. It's really just as I tell you, Eliza, the old man is tired and needs rest!" Again the old woman shook her head, "Huh uh," she said, "ef you'd' a' seen him gwine lickety split outen de meetin'-house you wouldn' a thought he was so tiahed."
Gracious, I wouldn t have tried that for the world, and I found out afterwards that the soldier who stood on his head formerly belonged with a circus. I suppose it was wrong to complain, but the horse they gave me was the meanest horse in the regiment.
"Sam," he asked the coachman, "who is that white man?" "Dat's Mistah Haines, suh use' ter be de constable at Cla'endon, suh. I wouldn' lak to be in no gang under him, suh, sho' I wouldn', no, suh!" After this ejaculation, which seemed sincere as well as fervent, Sam whipped up the horses and soon reached the house. A Negro boy came out to meet them. "Is Mr. Fetters at home," inquired the colonel?
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