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Right yeah in Colchester, where we done come t' hab puffick rest an' quiet an' fishin', just laik yo' done said on de train." "Humph! A murder mystery right here in town. I thought I heard the newsboys shouting something about it at the station. But I didn't listen. Who's killed, Shag?" "Why, Colonel, sah, it's a poor ole lady, an' " "Stop, Shag! Not another word!
"Got t' git a good strong box fo' dish yeah," murmured Eradicate, as he looked at the beautiful mahogany present Tom had turned over to him to take to Mary. "Mah Landy! Dat suttinly am nice; Ah! Um! Jest laik some ob de old mahogany furniture dat was in our fambily down Souf." Eradicate did not mean his family, exactly, but the one in which he had been a slave.
Auguste's voice aroused me. "Ah, Monsieur, is it not a face to love, to adore?" "It is a face to obey," I answered, with some heat, and with more truth than I knew. "Mon Dieu, Monsieur, it is so. It is that mek me love you know not how. You know not what love is, Monsieur Reetchie, you never love laik me. You have not sem risson.
He was a small man, with a little round hand that wriggled out of my grasp; he had a big French nose, bright eyes that popped a little and gave him the habit of looking sidewise, and grizzled, chestnut eyebrows over them. He had a thin-lipped mouth and a round chin. "Citizen Reetchie, is it? I laik to know citizen's name glorified by gran' cause. Reetchie?"
"It was the most effective weapon you could have used," said Tom, gratefully. "Deed no, Mistah Swift, I didn't hab no weapon," spoke Eradicate earnestly. "I ain't eben got mah razor, 'case I left it home. I didn't hab no weapon at all. I jest used de whitewash, laik yo' seen me." "That's what I meant," answered Tom, trying not to laugh at the simple negro's misunderstanding.
Breed slapped his thigh. "Marse Nick Temple, Marsa's son. He's 'bout you size, but he ain' no mo' laik you den a Jack rabbit's laik an' owl. Dey ain' none laik Marse Nick fo' gittin' into trouble-and gittin' out agin." "Where is he now?" I asked. "He at Temple Bow, on de Ashley Ribber. Dat's de Marsa's barony." "His what?" "De place whah he lib at, in de country."
I knows dish yeah place laik a book, even if I cain't read. Where all does yo' all want t' go? Oh, wait a minute, though. Hole on! I done got t' ax yo' all some questions. Hab yo' all seen any photographers round 'bout yeah?" "Photographers?" repeated Paul. "Yais, sah! I done passed a steamer yist'day, an' dey all on board was monstrous peeved 'cause dey done lost der photographer.
Now, mostly, when I wants Boomerang t' hurry, he goes slow, an' when I wants him t' go slow, he runs away. But dish yeah time he knowed he were comin' t' help yo', an' he certainly did leg it, dat's what he done! He run laik he were goin' home t' a stable full ob oats, an' dat's how I got heah so quick. Den I t'ought ob de whitewash, an' I jest used it."
"No great loss if it has landed over in the Cumberlands," observed Tom Gray. "Wash, where did the mule hit you?" "Ah reckons all ovah, 'cept on de bean. Why dat fool mule kick me? Hain't nevah done nothin' laik that befo'. Ah ask yuh why he do dat?" insisted Washington. They glanced at Emma, whose face reddened. "I threw a stone at you and hit the mule, if you must know," she said.
Eradicate exclaimed. "De mahogany present will jest fit." Eradicate took some excelsior to pad the box, and then, dropping inside it the gift, already wrapped in tissue paper, he proceeded to screw on the cover. There was something printed in red letters on the outside box, but Eradicate could not read, so it did not trouble him. "Dat Miss Nestor shore will laik her present," he murmured.
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