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Updated: June 2, 2025
In that case a skipper wants plenty of room to move about. Sometimes quick work is necessary, and " "I don't suppose that being a commodore will prevent my assisting in sailing the boat, will it?" asked Harriet smilingly. The skipper looked her over critically. "I reckon we can make a sailor of you. Know anything about sailing?" "No, sir." "Yeth, she doeth," interjected Grace.
She sank at the foot of the tree and leaned against it, panting. "I des feels ez ef de yeth ud op'n en swaller me," began the poor renegade, quivering with emotion. "Don't talk so, Aun' Suke. I'm not strong enough to stand foolishness. You will go back with me and stay with Uncle Lusthah and Aun' Jinkey and Zany. You will cook for us all just the same and by and by you will be as free as I am."
Rand drank, and gave back the cup. "Thank you. I'll go on now. How your vine has borne this year!" "Yeth. I'm going to make some wine this week. Good-bye." Her visitor passed through the little yard, between the vivid flowers. At the gate he turned his head. "Tom is really coming, Vinie, in two or three days." "Yeth, thir," said Vinie. "I'll be mighty glad to see him."
She held it for a moment, softly against her cheek. He bent forward. "Cara!" he whispered. No answer. "Cara!" he repeated. "Yeth, thir," she lisped in a whimsical little-girl voice, looking up with a smile stolen from a fairy-tale. "I am just lending you that rose. I had meant to give it to you, but now I want it back when you are through with it. May I have it?" She held it out teasingly.
"He's going down into the parlour to-night, and pretty soon he's going home, and then he'll be riding into town to his office." He looked kindly into the small, freckled, pretty face. The heat of the day stood in moisture on Vinie's brow, she had pushed back her sunbonnet, and the breeze stirred the damp tendrils of her hair. "Tom must miss him," said the hunter. "Yeth, Tom does."
Now, where upon the face of the yeth did you get this?" she inquired, as she sniffed and sipped the beverage, that was equally grateful to smell and taste. "A friend gave it to Nora, who has been poorly, you know; but Nora does not like wine herself, and I would advise you not to drink all that, for it would certainly get in your head," said Hannah.
The last time he was here he said that whether he ended in a palace or a dungeon, he'd remember Tom somewhere towards the last. Yeth, ma'am, it was a funny thing to say, but he was always mighty fond of Tom." "Does he come here often?" "Right often, when there's work to be done at night, or when he wants to meet some one at a quieter place than the office.
"Can't you see we are all just perishing with curiosity?" "Yeth. I'm motht thuffocated from holding my breath," declared Tommy. "But Buthter ith thuffocated hecauthe she ith tho fat. Don't you think it ith awful to be tho fat, Mr. Januth?" She gazed, in apparent unblinking innocence, at the solemn-faced guide, who answered with twinkling eyes. "I dunno, Miss. I never was fat.
"Girls, don't move! We do not know what has occurred. Does any of you know where Mr. Grubb is?" "Yeth. He ith right here. I jutht touched hith whithkerth," answered Tommy in a weak, plaintive little voice. "I gueth he ith dead." The guardian clambered from the rear of the carry-all. The lantern had been extinguished by the shock.
Ole Marster he ain't say nothin', but he tuck a fresh grip on de jimmy-john, en it got so dat, go whar you would, dey want no mo' lonesomer place on de face er de yeth dan dat Wornum plantation, en hit look like ruination done sot in. En den, on top er dat, yer come de war, en Clay Bivins he went off en got kilt, en den freedom come out, en des 'bout dat time Miss Deely she tuck 'n' die.
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