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Updated: June 9, 2025
Yo' see, Cun'l Chahmb'lin's place j'ined ourn, an' it looked jes' ez natural fur dem two chil'en to marry an' mek it one plantation, ez it did fur de creek to run down de bottom from our place into Cun'l Chahmb'lin's.
"Dat's de mansion ob Cun'l Hickman, my ole mars'r," replied Cuffy. "He owns all de land 'bout here, mor'n tousand acres. He let me live on dis corner when he want me to run de ferry, and I stops here eber since." "Then he must be very rich." "Rich! Dat ain't no name for't. He's got more money'n de Bank ob London, 'n I reckon he could buy out de State of Kaintuck. He's pow'ful rich, Mars'r."
He said ole marster hed taught Marse Chan; dat ole marster wuz a wuss ab'litionis' dan he son. I looked at Marse Chan, an' sez to myse'f: 'Fo' Gord! old Cun'l Chahmb'lin better min', an' I hedn' got de wuds out, when ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin 'cuse' ole marster o' cheatin' 'im out o' he niggers, an' stealin' piece o' he lan' dat's de lan' I tole you 'bout.
"I nebber heard yo' talk dat way befo'. But I guess yo're right, an' I'se ready to do what I kin. But here comes de Cun'l! An', oh, Missie Jean, de Major's wif him! Dere won't be 'nuf waffles to go 'round, an' de fire's 'most out. What in de world is I to do?" "Never mind, Mammy," the girl comforted, "they have hardly time to think about eating. Just give them what you have."
He hed been courtin' Miss Anne 'bout de time Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an' Miss Anne hed kicked 'im, dough he wuz mighty rich, 'cause he warn' nuthin' but a half-strainer, an' 'cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she didn' speak to 'im; an' Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an' 'cause Cun'l Chahmb'lin tole 'im not to come dyah no more, he got mighty mad.
Dey wuz a-talkin' 'bout it all de time, an' purty soon Cun'l Chahmb'lin he went about ev'vywhar speakin' an' noratin' 'bout Firginia ought to secede; an' Marse Chan he wuz picked up to talk agin' 'im. Dat wuz de way dey come to fight de duil. I sut'n'y wuz skeered fur Marse Chan dat mawnin', an' he was jes' ez cool!
I thought I'd take the Little Cun'l along with me if you was willin'. She's always wild to play with Mrs. Wyford's children up there." "Yes, I'm better, Becky," was the languid reply. "Put a clean dress on Lloyd if you are going to take her out." Mrs. Sherman closed her eyes again, thinking gratefully, "Dear, faithful old Becky!
She then greased both halves of the pan, filled them with batter, reclamped the iron and thrust it again into the fire. This she did several times until the dish was almost filled with delicious-smelling waffles. "Guess dey'll suit de Cun'l," she said to herself. "He's mighty fond of waffles, he shur' is. An' Missie Jean is, too, fo' dat matter. I wonder what's keepin' dem.
He rode slowly along, with his eye on the roadside coverts, letting the horse take his own gait, except when a ragged negro boy, on an unwilling, heavy-footed mule, slyly approached and struck the dallying steed from behind. It was past the middle of the October afternoon. "'Mos' thar now, Cun'l," said the boy at last, eagerly. "See them busted trees pas' thar, an' chimblies?
Marse Chan, he jes' kep' cool till de ole Cun'l light into he pa. Ez soon ez he name ole marster, I seen Marse Chan sort o' lif' up he head. D' yo' ever see a hoss rar he head up right sudden at night when he see somethin' comin' to'ds 'im from de side an' he don' know what 'tis? Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he went right on.
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