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Updated: June 26, 2025
"'So far as it shall serve for God's glory and their own good," added Evelyn, softly. "Dat's so, chillens," said Aunt Chloe; "an' yo' ole mammy hopes ebery one ob yo's gwine try it all de days ob yo' life." "Yes, we're goin' to, mammy; so now tell us some more," said Walter, coaxingly; "tell about the time when the poor little girl that's my mamma now had to go away and leave her pretty home."
Grace was a highly interested listener. "Oh," she said, "I want to see the table when it's all set and the good things on it! I wonder if papa will let me eat any of them." "Maybe," said Agnes; "but you know, Miss Grace, yo's sickly, leastways, not bery strong, and de doctah doan' let you eat rich things."
Hit'll be a long try, 'cause I can't buy mine so cheap as I got yo's, dough de Lawd knows why a great big ol' hunk lak me should cos' mo'n a precious mossell lak you." "Hit's because dey's so much of you, Ben, an' evah bit of you's wo'th its weight in gol'." "Heish, chile! Don' put my valy so high, er I'll be twell jedgment day a-payin' hit off."
Of co'se, ef a man got a good public axe to grime, he espec' an' you espec' him to bring his private axe along an' git hit grime at the same junction. Thass natchiul. Thass all right an' puffiely corrosive. On'y we must take tu'ns tunnin' the grime-stone. You grime my axe, I grime yo's. How does that strack you, Mr. March?" John's reply was enthusiastic.
Fitz read in their faces these mental processes, and was more determined than ever to break up at once what he called "the settlement." "Are you sho', Colonel," inquired Ker-foot, catching at straws, "that the coal lands lie entirely on yo' father's property? Does not the Barbour lan' jine yo's on the hill?"
"Deed an' I has, Colonel; many a time! Yes, sah!" "Humph! Yes! Well, detective work is a sort of hunt, isn't it, Shag?" "Yes, sah, Colonel. Dat's jest what it is! Many an' many a time I'se done heah yo' say yo's goin' out t' hunt dis man or dat woman!" "Very good, Shag. And it's a sort of fishing, too, isn't it?". "Yes, sah, Colonel!
And now you will take my cigars out of your pocket, or I will hand you to that policeman out there at the door. Out with them." "Boss, I ain't got no cigars o' yo's. I 'll swar to it on de wud o' " "Out with them or " Mr. Graeme turned to open the door. The negro, after a glance at Mam' Lyddy, slowly took several cigars from his pockets.
Put hit in yo' chist." "Tek hit and feel of hit, anyhow, so's you'll know dat you's free." She took it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. Ben suddenly let go. "Dah, now," he said; "you keep dat docyment. It's yo's. Keep hit undah yo' own 'sponsibility." "No, no, Ben!" she cried. "I jes' can't!" "You mus'. Dat's de way to git used to bein' free.
But Ah done thought maybe yo' know somethin' dat yo's burnin' to tell." "Who are you, and what are you doing around here?" asked Tom. "I'm certain you don't belong to my force of workmen -unless you just joined yesterday. Are you working on the breakwater job?" "Yessah," promptly answered Sambo with momentary gravity. Then his mood changed to a chuckle.
The black, wrinkled face uplifted to the sky, almost shone with glad expectancy, and the dim, sunken eyes grew bright for an instant with hope and joy. Then turning them upon Evelyn, and, for the first time, taking note of her deep mourning, "Po' chile," she said, in tender, pitying tones, "yo's loss somebody dat yo' near kin?"
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