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I never seed ther beat er thet ol hen; make hase ter gulp her own co'n down ter driv ther turkeys way from their'n." Thus spoke Mrs. Amanda Pervis as she stood in the door of her humble wooden dwelling on Kidder's Hill a brisk morning in October. "Thanksgiving haint fur off, an turkey meat's er gittin high. Shoo ther yer hussy!"
He too lazy and shif'less to make co'n of his own; and he like too well to filch co'n from them he puts his spite on. Buck Fuson he tuck a spite at me, last time the raiders was up atter that Fuson hideout; jes set up an' swore 'at I'd gin the word to 'em.
"W'y, Sammy, w'y, Sammy honey, you know Pappy don't do it fer nair sech a reason. Hit don't look no sech a thing like you was shif'less an' lazy. Hit jes look like Pappy got nothin' to do, an' love to come and give you a turn with yo' co'n; an', Sammy honey," the good farmer for the moment getting the better of the timid, soft-hearted parent, "hit is might'ly in the weeds, boy.
Now, he's gwine ter know w'at it is ter eat co'n bread en merlasses once mo', en wuk fum daylight ter da'k, en ter hab a oberseah dribin' 'im fum one day's een' ter de udder. I means dat I sont wud ter Jeff dat Sunday dat you wuz gwine ter be ober ter Mars' Marrabo's visitin' dat ebenin', en you want i'm ter meet you down by de crick on de way home en go de rest er de road wid you.
"Sposin' I was to go to N' Orleans an' take sick and die, Laik a bird into de country ma spirit would fly." And after a while down the path the red and yellow of Mammy Easter's bandanna was seen. "Supper, Miss Jinny. Laws, if I ain't ramshacked de premises fo' you bof. De co'n bread's gittin' cold."
He los' track un er, en' ez he wuz a-startin' back out'n de swamp, a great big black ha'nt 'bout ten feet high, en' wid a fence-rail in its ban's jump out'n de bushes en' chase 'im cl'ar up in de co'n fiel'. Leas'ways he said it did; en' atter dat none er de niggers wouldn't go nigh de swamp, 'cep'n Cindy, who said it wuz all foolishness it wuz dis nigger's guilty conscience dat skeered 'im she hadn' seed no ha'nt en' wuz'n skeered er nuffin' she didn't see.
"Wall, not as much diffunce as if she had loved him an' he hadn't loved her. Jim, I reckon here's about as fine a piece of co'n bread as you ever smacked yo' mouth on, white meal ground slow." Margaret's keen ears heard a halloa at the gate. "Thar's the preacher," she said. "An' goodness me, we ain't got a bite fitten for a preacher to eat." Jasper got up to meet the minister.
"The mill on Dead Crick is broke ag'in," she continued, "'n' co'n is skeerce on our side. We'll have to begin buyin' purty soon, so I thought I'd save totin' the co'n down hyeh." She handed old Gabe the empty bag. "Well," said he, "as it air gittin' late, 'n' ye have to climb the mountain ag'in, I'll let ye have that comm' out o' the hopper now. Take a cheer."
"On dis plantation dere was 'bout a hunnerd head; cookin' was done in de fireplace in iron pots and de meals was plenty of peas, greens, cornbread burnt co'n for coffee often de marster bought some coffee fur us; we got water frum de open well. Jes 'fore de big gun fiahed dey fotched my pa frum de bay whar he was makin' salt; he had heerd dam say 'de Yankees is coming and wuz so glad."
He couldn' un'erstan' it at fus, but he wuz so hongry he didn' hab time ter study 'bout nuffin' fer a little w'ile but jes' ter git sump'n' ter eat; fer he had done eat up de bread an' meat he tuk away wid 'im, an' had been libbin' on roas'n-ears an' sweet'n taters he'd slip out'n de woods an' fin' in co'n fiel's 'an 'tater-patches.
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