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Updated: May 16, 2025
Gentlemen, come in an' we'll have a bite to eat ag'in the wagon comes. Don't put yo'se'f to no trouble, Margaret. 'Most anythin' will do." "Oh," she began to moan, wringing her hands, "they air goin' to hang you. It's all Lije Peters' work, an' you ought to have killed him, for the Lord knows he's give you plenty cause. Where is the scoundrel?" "Who, Lije?
Dey stan' up mighty squar' ontwell dere dues commence ter cramp um, an' dey don't stan' de racket wuf a durn. No longer'n yistiddy I seed one er de head men er one er dese Tempeler's s'cieties totin' water fer a bar-room. He had de water in a bucket, but dey ain't no tellin' how much red licker he wuz a totin'. G'long, chile jine yo' s'ciety an' be good ter yo'se'f. I'm a gittin' too ole.
"'Now, 'lows de cunjuh man, 'lemme tell you des w'at you is got ter do. Wen you ketches dis witch, you mus' take her right by de th'oat en bite her right th'oo de neck. Be sho' yo' teef goes th'oo at de fus' bite, en den you won't nebber be bothe'd no mo' by dat witch. En w'en you git done, come back heah en I'll tu'n you ter yo'se'f ag'in, so you kin go home en git yo' night's res'.
"I doan' see whaih yo' Ha'ison pride is," she said; "co'se, he may be nice enough, but does you want to tell him yes de fust t'ing, so's he'll t'ink dat you jumped at de chanst to git him an' git back in de homestid?" "Oh, mammy," cried Mima; she had gone all white and cold. "You do' know nothin' 'bout his quality. You a Ha'ison yo'se'f.
Now, jest rock yo'se'f thar an' putty soon you'll git rested." "Thank you, Mars Jasper. An' I hopes you's all well, bof in de flesh an' in de sight o' de Lawd." "Ah, mammy," said the old man, "you never forgit the Lawd, do you?" "How kin I, Mars Jasper, w'en I so close ter Him. An' Marster, dis is my birfday." "Is that so? And how old air you to-day, mammy?"
He had a dozen witnesses there to prove that they had known the woman as Jane Callender. "But did you not give your name as Jane Callender?" "I object," thundered the defence. "Do, hush, man," Sis' Dicey exclaimed, and then turning to the prosecutor, "La, honey, you know Jane Callender ain't my real name, you knows dat yo'se'f. It's des my bus'ness name.
Ah done foun' dat was de name ob a gemmun in yo' pahty dat wasn't wid yo'. Truax do as well as any odder name yah! Now, Ah's gwine leab yo' heah t' git a sleep. Ah'll toss down some blankets. 'Pose yo'se'f and gwine ter sleep, honey. Don't try to clim' up outer dat, or dem dawgs'll sho'ly jump down at yo'. Keep quiet, an' go ter sleep, an' de dawgs done lay heah an' jest watch.
A voice followed, high, lazily petulant, and familiar to him, and yet one he strove in vain to recall. "De Lawdy-Gawd save us, Miss Sally! Wot yo' doin' dah? Chile! Chile! Yo' 'll kill yo'se'f, shuah!" The pressure continued, strange and potent even through his pain, and was then withdrawn. And a voice that thrilled him said: "It's the only thing to save him! Hush, ye chattering black crow!
"Ne'ow, Mister Kingsley, you know yo'se'f that Bud is mighty slow mouthed he don't talk much an' I have to do his talkin' fur him. Ne'ow Bud don't intend for to be so mean" she added a little softer "but every month about the full of the moon, Bud seems to think somehow that it is about time fur him to make a fool of hisse'f again.
Folks dey give Christmas gifts same es de Lawd he give chillun dey des han's out w'at dey's got on dey han's, wid no stiddyin' 'bout de tase. Sakes er live! Ef'n de Lawd hadn't hed a plum sight ter git rid er, he 'ouldn't er sont Ca'line all dose driblets, fo' he'd done sont 'er a husban'." "Husban', huh!" exclaimed Ca'line, with a snort from the fireplace. "Husban' yo'se'f!
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