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Updated: August 10, 2024
These heah Yankee commissaries bin workin' out new tricks all th' time. They takes a lot of stuff like turnips, carrots, beets, all such truck, an' press it into cakes like this. 'Course you have to be careful. I heard tell as how one blue belly, he chawed the stuff dry an' then drank water; it bloated him up like a cow in green cane. Poor fella, he jus' natchelly suffered from bein' so greedy.
"Well, who is it that you help support if it's anybody?" "Hit's Jedge Priest tha's who. Jedge, he jes' natchelly couldn't git 'long noways 'thout me lookin' after him, suh. The older he git the more it seem lak he leans heavy on me." "Well, Judge Priest may have to lean on himself for a while. Uncle Sam needs every able-bodied man he can get these times and you look to be as strong as a mule.
"I was on han' when Gin'l Lee handed his sword to Gin'l Grant. You see, Miss, dey had him all hemmed in an' he jus' natchelly had to give up. I seen him stick his sword up in de groun'. "Law! It sho' was turrible times. Dese old eyes o' mine seen more people crippled an' dead. I'se even seen 'em saw off legs wid hacksaws. I tell you it aint right, Miss, what I seen. It aint right atall.
"Oomph," said Mam' Henry, for she commented on everything, "dem too is jes' natchelly singin' demse'ves togeddah." "Dey's lak de mo'nin' stahs," interjected Aunt Sophy. "How 'bout dat?" sniffed the older woman, for she objected to any one's alluding to subjects she did not understand. "Why, Mam' Henry, ain' you nevah hyeahd tell o' de mo'nin' stahs whut sung deyse'ves togeddah?"
'It natchelly stands to reason that a big scaffolded-up man like Stony Bugg can chamber more licker than a little runt like that Burnett. Why, he could do it if Burnett was spangled all over with Adamses' apples and all of them palpitating like skeered lizards. He could do it if Burnett's eyes were so fur apart he was cross-eyed behind.
I jes' natchelly ain't gwine stay 'yuh by my alonese 'f," wept Emma. Peter looked at her with the sort of tenderness one must be born in the South to understand. Born in the last years of slavery, brought up in wild Reconstruction days, Emma couldn't read or write. She wasn't amenable to discipline. She was, as Cassius had complained, "so contrary she mus' be 'flicted wid de moonness."
"First, he takes a bite off a yaller banana and then off a red banana, and then a mouthful of peanuts; and then maybe some mixed candies not sayin' a word to nobody, but jest natchelly eatin' his fool head off. A young chap that's clerkin' in Bagby's grocery, next door, steps up to him and speaks to him, meanin', I suppose, to ast him is it true he's wealthy.
These here boys that they bring in here have broke the law of Gawd an' the law of the land, an' they jest natchelly got to pay fur their devilment. That's so, ain't it? Well, then, that bein' so, I step forward an' do the job. Ef they was free men, walkin' around like you an' me, I wouldn't lay the weight of my little finger on 'em to harm a single hair in their haids.
De gun jest natchelly went off by itself accidental-laik, an' it peppered him good an' proper." "Why, Rad!" cried Ned. "You didn't tell us about this." "Well, I were 'shamed ob mah cousin, so I was. Anyhow, I only had salt an' pepper in de gun 'stid ob shot. I 'spect mah cousin am pretty well seasoned now.
Then, thah's anothah p'int," he added after a pause. "Thah's thet sneakin' fellah, Drane. Buttah won't melt in his mouth, an' maple syrup hain't ez sweet ez his ways. He's rich an' fine ez a fiddle, too, an' is all respect an' 'umbleness with ole Hi, who thinks jes' kaze the daddy, ole Anson Drane, wuz a honest man, thet the son is natchelly obleeged to be honest too.
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