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Updated: May 18, 2025
"We'll stop at Brooks' for the shoes, then we'll go around to Dove's; I've a little commission for him." "Yas'm, yas'm," nodded Jess. The shoes were bought, Peggy selecting them and giving them to Bolivar with the words: "It will soon be Easter and this is my Easter gift to Nellie, with my love," she added with a smile which made the shoes a hundred-fold more valuable.
Wall, er white lady come up yere an' she had er silk shawl an' da fooled roun' till da 'cuzed Tildy o' stealin' it an' da sont her ter de pennytenchy." "What, on an accusation?" "Wall, da keep er pesterin' roun' till da proved it on her. Yas'm." He got up and slowly limped over toward her. "An' ain't you got fifty cents you could give me fur all dis inflamation? I needs it might'ly."
"Yes'm, dey had; but, you see, dey were arrested, and then Cunnel Cresswell took 'em and 'lowed they couldn't leave his place. Ol' man Tolliver was powerful mad." "Why, Aunt Rachel, it's slavery!" cried the lady in dismay. Aunt Rachel did not offer to dispute her declaration. "Yas'm, hit's slavery," she agreed.
But this morning she was alone with Mancy, struggling with the all-important lists. "I'll make the salad myself," she remarked, as she wrote "olive oil" on her slip of paper. "Yas'm," answered Mancy, rolling her eyes with an expression of dubious approval. "Does yo' know how, missy?" "Oh, yes," said Patty confidently; "I can make most beautiful salad dressing.
He heard a door open softly and close upstairs, and then some one descending the steps; a few words spoken in the subdued voice of a woman and the less gentle response of the darky servant, who mumbled "Yas'm," and an instant later went out by the front door. Through the window he saw her go down the walk, the red shawl drawn tightly about her shoulders. He smiled.
"Yas'm, yas'm, comin' comin'," he answered, breaking into a trot for the rig, and climbing in by her side. "Come Jim, git! Yo' black villen, don' yo' know, dis here's er'mergency case? Yo' sho got to lay yo' laigs to de groun' dis night er yo' goin' to git left sartin! 'Mergency case!" he chuckled. "Dat mak him go, Miss. Funny I nebber knowed dat 'fore."
Someone shouted, close to the wagon yet down the bank at the edge of the water. The words were indistinguishable, but a warning was in the voice. On the echo of that cry, a man screamed twice. "Ezra!" cried mother fiercely. "It's Frank Davis they've got him down, somehow. Climb over the backs of the cattle There's no other way and GET HIM!" "Yas'm, Missy!"
Done seed her at Calve't House. How is you, Miss Jinny?" "Very well, Lizbeth," said Virginia, listlessly sitting down on the hall sofa. "Can you give us some breakfast?" "Yas'm," said Lizbeth, "jes' reckon we kin." She ushered them into a walnut dining room, big and high and sombre, with plush-bottomed chairs placed about walnut also; for that was the fashion in those days.
Seems like the Lord done gone 'way fur off, 'n I kain't fotch him noways; but when white folks like Miss Ma'y Ellen Beecham come set down right side o' me an' sing wif me, den I know ther Lord, he standin' by listenin'. Yas'm, he shoh'ly goin' to incline his eah!" Women are women. There is no synonym.
Miss Susie went on inexorably, "That worthless Zibbie Tuttle has been tearing all my good linen and lace to pieces for the past three weeks. And now I suppose I'll have to put up with her for a few weeks longer." "Yas'm," Zenie replied weakly. "However" Miss Susie pronounced it as though it were one syllable "I suppose I can't help it. What is it? Boy or girl?"
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