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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Oh, my buzzum!" exclaimed Tom, laying his hand on his breast; "you've a'most bu'st me, sir. W'at's wrong, sir?" "Go for the doctor, Tom, quick! run like the wind. Take the freshest horse; fly, Tom, Charley's poisoned laudanum; quick!"
Tode never cared how dirty his hands were except when he saw them in contrast with Little Brother's pure face. "Yes, he's getting well and strong," assented Nan, with a happy smile. "I say, Nan, w'at's the reason you won't let me pay for his milk?" asked Tode, after a little.
"Dat am all right, Massa Reade," he allowed. "But yo' doan' fool dis nigger as easy as yo' maybe think. Ah know what yo' watchin' me fo', and Ah done know I'se been doin' jess w'at yo' think. So I guess we doan' need no mo' conversationin', unless yo' willing to talk right out and tell me w'at's w'at." "Sambo," said Reade solemnly, "I imagine I'm not very intelligent, after all.
Hoak held the floor as spokesman, and his deep whispering voice was raw with bitterness. "We hain't no bloomin' galley-slyves," he growled. "Blyme me, I say, let's make a hend o' the 'ole bloody mess once and for hall." "How?" came the natural question from one of the more conservative. "'Ow?" retorted the ringleader, "W'at's the odds 'ow? Any way will do. Rush the cabin.
"Oh! w'at for was me born?" she inquired, somewhat viciously, and, not being able apparently to answer this question, she proceeded to comment in a wildly sarcastic tone on the impropriety of her having been brought into existence at all. "Me should be dead. W'at's de use o' life w'en ums nothin' to live for? Alice gone! Darling Alice! Oh! dear. Me wish I wasn't never had been born; yes me do.
Dey des 'pear to git a spite agin some folks en dey ain' bodderin oder folks long ez dey ain' 'feered wid. I 'spect a spook dat wuz 'feered wid, get he dander up en slam roun' permiscus. I des tek a ole bull by de horns 'fo' I 'fere wid a spook," and Jute's companions grunted assent. "W'at's the good o' yer bein' yere then?" Perkins asked, taking a deep draught.
He dunner w'at's up, en he don't say nuthin'. Ole Brer B'ar he keep runnin' on: "'You er de man w'at tuck en fool me 'bout Brer Rabbit t'er day. You had yo' fun, Brer Bull-frog, en now I'll git mine. "Den Brer Bull-frog, he gin ter git skeer'd, he did, en he up'n say: "'W'at I bin doin', Brer B'ar? How I bin foolin' you? "Den Brer B'ar laff, en make like he dunno, but he keep on talkin'.
The sun, which had just kissed his hand to the disappointed horizon and begun to re-ascend the sky, blinded the Captain with his beams, but did not prevent him from observing that Alf's place was still vacant. "Very odd," he muttered, "Alf didn't use to to w'at's 'is name in this way " The Captain's head dropped, his elbow relaxed, and he returned to the land of Nod for another half-hour.
Then 'e opened 'is eyes an' looked long and 'ard at Lydy Elling. "'Of course I'll try to do as you'd wish about the picture, 'Ugh, if that's w'at's troublin' you, she says quiet. With that 'e closed 'is eyes and 'e never opened 'em. He died unconscious at four that mornin'. "You see, sir, Lydy Elling was always cruel 'ard on the Marriage.
'Tain't my name." And the old man answered dreamily, "You remind me of a boy I knew when I was about your age. He used to say that he was going to be a bishop when he grew up and so we boys always called him 'bishop." "An' did he?" questioned Tode. "Become a bishop? No, he entered the army and died in his first battle." "W'at's a bishop, anyhow?" asked Tode, after a moment's silence.
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