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Updated: June 26, 2025
You know we want ever so many kinds to celebrate our two birthdays." "Two birthdays, Miss Lucy? yo's and Massa Herbert's? Yes, dat's it; I don't disremember de day, but I do disremember de age." "Sixteen; and now we're going to have a nice party to celebrate the day, and you must see that the refreshments are got up in your very best style."
She took the baby from Sydney and laid her on the bed, and began to get together what paraphernalia she needed. "Bud ain' comin' home to dinner, so Ah c'n stay 'n cook yo's 'f ye want," she called, cheerily, breaking in upon the silence that had fallen between her two guests; a silence fraught with happiness for the man, and with a return of that terrible shyness for the girl.
When I got down to help her into the cart I saw she was toting a child in her arms." "What did the woman look like, Bob?" said Crenshaw. "She wa'n't exactly old and she wa'n't young by no manner of means; I remember saying to myself, that child ain't yo's, whose ever it is.
It would be foolish to say that Reade was not afraid, but he was determined to keep Ebony from discovering the fact. "Yo's to keep yo' hands up longer dan yo' can keep yo' moufs shut!" scowled the black man, his ugly streak showing once more. "It makes me think of the way we used to play football," laughed Reade, though there was not much mirth in his chuckle.
The horses went to the saddle blocks, selected their saddles, lifted them by the little pommel and carried them to Jess like obedient children. No mother was ever more gratified than Jess. "Now honeys, yo' stan' right whar yo's at twell yo' summons come from over yander.
Her bent figure, watery eyes and high shrill voice bore additional testimony to her age. "Yo's home earlier dan usual, dearie?" she resumed. "But yo' supper's all ready. Sit down here." "I'm not hungry, auntie," he returned. "Not hungry, honey?" she cried, laughing shrilly. "Yo' wait!"
"Something may have changed," Buck suggested. "No, suh, I've heard. Hit were my bullet I've heard. Hit's a trial, an' hit's hit's hanging!" "Sh-h! Not so loud!" Buck warned. "If it's lawyer money you need?" "I got 'leven hundred, an' a trial lawyer'll cost only a thousand, Buck! Yo's a friend Lawse! I'd shore like to talk to him. He's no detector, Parson Rasba yain't.
We've wound in an' aroun' the back of my place down by the river! I never seed this hole befo'." "I knew it was yo's," said the outlaw quietly. "That's why I come here. Many a Sunday night I've slipped up to the little church winder an' heard you preach me an' po' little Jack. Oh, he loved to hear the Bible read an' he never forgot nothin' you ever said.
Dey kin set de pace fo' all dat truck yonder, an' don' yo' fergit dat fac'. Yo's got some fairly-middlin'-good ones hyer," and Jess nodded toward the stalls, "but dey's just de onery class, not de quality. No-siree. Now, honey, don' yo' go fer ter git perjectin' none cause I'se praisin' yo' to yo' face. Tain't good manners fer ter take notice when yo's praised.
I means I 's gwine to leab dis place." "Now look here, Rose," protested the lawyer, with dignity, "Peter Siner occupies almost a fiduciary relation to me." The old negress stared with a slack jaw. "A relation o' yo's!" The lawyer hesitated some seconds, looking at the hag.
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