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Updated: June 9, 2025
He walked up to de stable wid he head down all de way, an' I'se seen 'im go eighty miles of a winter day, an' prance into de stable at night ez fresh ez if he hed jes' cantered over to ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's to supper. I nuver seen a hoss beat so sence I knowed de fetlock from de fo'lock, an' bad ez he wuz he wan' ez bad ez Marse Chan.
An' don' yo' t'ink, Cun'l Chahmb'lin axed ole marster mo' 'n th'ee niggers wuz wuth fur M'ria. Befo' old marster bought her, dough, de sheriff cum an' levelled on M'ria an' a whole parecel o' udder niggers. Ole marster he went to de sale, an' bid for 'em; but Cun'l Chahmb'lin he got some one to bid 'g'inst ole marster.
"What about?" "Why, doan yo' know, Cun'l?" and Mammy looked her surprise. "Jes as soon as de young folks heard de news 'bout Missie Jean an' Mistah Dane dey made plans to cel'brate, so dat's what dey's doin' now. An' listen, Cun'l, to de music. Simon's settin' on a log, playin' fo' all he's worf, an' de young folks is a dancin'. Yo' bett'r come an' see fo' yo' set."
I wonder if de Good Lo'd made dis place, anyway," and she gazed ruefully around. "It looks to me as if de deb'l had a mighty big hand in it, fo' sich a mixed up contraption of a hole I nebber set my two eyes on befo'. An' to t'ink dat de Cun'l had to leab his nice home in Ol' Connec., an' come to a jumpin'-off place like dis.
The deserter blinked twice or thrice, slowly bit his shred of straw, looked casually first toward one boy and then toward the other, but without the slightest change of expression in his face. "Cun'l," he said, at length, "I ain't no deserter. I ain't feared of bein' shot. Ef I was, I wouldn' 'a' come here now.
Don' let any one know 'bout it, or know why you've gone. 'Yes, seh, sez I. "Yo' see, I knowed Miss Anne's maid over at ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's dat wuz Judy whar is my wife now an' I knowed I could wuk it. So I tuk de roan an' rid over, an' tied 'im down de hill in de cedars, an' I wen' 'roun' to de back yard.
Den he'd peartin' up, an' he alwuz rode at de head o' de company 'cause he wuz tall; an' hit wan' on'y in battles whar all his company wuz dat he went, but he use' to volunteer whenever de cun'l wanted anybody to fine out anythin', an' 'twuz so dangersome he didn' like to mek one man go no sooner'n anudder, yo' know, an' ax'd who'd volunteer.
I asked; "and whose place is that over there and the one a mile or two back the place with the big gate and the carved stone pillars?" "Marse Chan," said the darkey, "he's Marse Channin' my young marster; an' dem places dis one's Weall's, an' de one back dyar wid de rock gate-pos's is ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. Dey don' nobody live dyar now, 'cep' niggers.
Dey wuz a- talkin' 'bout it all de time, an' purty soon Cun'l Chahmb'lin he went about ev'ywhar 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!
"Cun'l De Willoughby, now," he said; "doan' you s'pose dar's some back pay owin' to him for de damage dat yaller fever done him wot he done cotch from de army?" Rupert laughed a little bitterly. "No," he said, "I'm afraid not." "What dey gwine to refun', den?" said Matt. "Dat's what I'd like ter fin' out. Dis hyer idee of refun'in' please me mightily.
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