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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Dat boy he ain't like de rest of de kids, I wants yuh to know, Marse Morgan," she was saying, eagerly. "All de boys 'round heah dey spends dere time aplayin' in de street, or agittin' into trouble. My Brutus he's different. Jest yuh come wif me an' see how he done play all by hisself. I'd like yuh to know he ain't a wuthless little rascal, dat chile."
"Gittin' soft in de haid, is Ah, yo' ol' wuthless no-'count?" He turned his face, to see the battered jeep from "Greyrock," driven by Arthur, the stableman and gardener, with Sergeant Williamson beside him. The older Negro jumped to the ground and ran toward him. At the same time, he felt Dearest with him again. "We made it, Popsy! We made it!" she was exulting.
A terrible earnestness lined the negro's face with a holiness of purpose and made it beautiful. "Oh, Lord," he prayed, "save dis yere ol' turkey gobbler. I knows, Lord, he's a powahful wuthless bird, but he's all I'se got. I'se jus' an' ol' slave, Massa, what's been free since de War, an' Job, sah, he understan's me. Lord, I doan wanta live no mo' if I has to kill ol' Job.
Doan' ye' done wish dat ye' had been to camp-meeting a few times in yo' life? Doan' yo' wish ye' been honest most er de time, an' been a hahd-wo'kin', pay-ye'-bills niggah lak some ob de rest oh us? Yo' fool lump er tar, yo' boun' ter go de way ob all de wicked -down to ye' grave in misery an' sorrow. It's de way oh all ob yo' lazy, ugly, wuthless kind!"
"I kind o' like to see 'em, Andy up and down and bobbin' and sloppin' and scramblin'; you never know where they'll come up next." "Don't need to," grumbled Andy. "Can't eat the blamed things nor wear 'em. I tell you, Willum," he turned a gloomy eye on his companion, "I tell you, you set too much store by wuthless things." "Mebbe I do," said William, humbly. "This one, now this painter fellow."
An' her sayin' to me then, 'Susanna, it will do you more good to sell to me an' put your money out to int'rest 'an to have a lot of wuthless land on your hands, an' you shall keep the little cottage for your own as long as you live. So we done it, an' she paid me more'n the market price; an' has left me the house all untouched, with my own furniture in it, an' me goin' out there twicet a year for spring an' fall cleanin, an' even leavin' the kitchen-bedroom bed made up, case I get the hypo an' feel like bein' by myself a spell."
Lastly thar's the pore white trash, thet lives 'way up in the hollers an' on the wuthless lands about the headwaters. They've little patches o' corn ter make ther breadstuff, an' depend on huntin', fishin', an' stealin' fur the rest o' their vittles.
"Den I was put to buryin' Yankee sojers. When nobody was lookin' I stript de dead of dey money. Sometimes dey had it in a belt a-roun' dey bodies. Soon I got a big roll o' foldin' money. Den I come a-trampin' back home. My folks didn' have no money but dat wuthless kin'. It was all dey knowed 'bout.
"President gwine to gib brekfus' an' dinnah an suppah to de likes ob you fo' de whole remaindah oh youh wuthless nat'ral life? Get out ob my sight, you reconstuckted niggah. I come out oh de St. Michael." There came through the window immediately upon this sounds of scuffling and of a fall, and then cries for help which took me running into the dilapidated building.
Long Jim with his bare legs as far as his knees protruding from his blanket was prowling among the lockers. "What's the noble senator lookin' fur?" asked Shif'less Sol. "I'm lookin' fur somethin' to help you an' all uv us," replied Long Jim, "while you're settin' thar lazy an' wuthless.
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