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Updated: June 11, 2025
I is afraid to go one step furder; but de debble sort o' tempted me dis mornin' to make a clean breast of der doins.
"Wal," said the old man, turning to us again, "dere it is. Chuck full o' 'ligion, but w'en dey git in de tight hole like de five-foot dey ain't got no faith. Old-time l'arnin' say 'tain't no use buckin' 'genst de debble less yo' full o' faith.
An' jes kase we let him hev it an' he's feared we mout change our minds now, here he is a runnin' 'roun' ter Ku Klux meetin's an' a tryin' ter stir up de bery ole debble, jes ter keep us cullu'd people from hevin' our rights. He can't do it wid me, dat's shore. I hain't done nuffin' an' I won't run.
"Yes, Mass' Richard. Here I own myself. Don't have no oberseer to crack his whip at me now. I'se a free woman now, and so's my little Pomp." The young man smiled at the innocent mistake. "Pomp is your little boy, I suppose, Chloe." "Yes, Mass' Richard." "Is he a good boy?" "He's as sassy as de debble," said Chloe emphatically. "I don't know what's goin' to 'come of dat boy.
"What is that you say?" he demanded, with mock ferocity. "You charge white people with lying?" "Oh, sakes, Mawse Chawlie, no! De people don't mek up dat ah; de debble pass it on 'em. Don' you know de debble ah de grett cyount'-feiteh?
"Massa Waite, sah, an' dat black debble dat we was huntin' fo'. It was a mos' surprisin' circumstance, sah a mos' surprisin' circumstance." "Well, go on; where did you see them? Do you mean they were together?" The negro took a long breath, evidently overcome by the importance of his message, and unable to conjure up words wholly satisfactory to his ideas.
The process of liberation did not appear to be very agreeable, judging from the angry mews which proceeded from her. Finally, in her indignation against Pomp for some aggressive act, she scratched him sharply. "You wicked old debble!" exclaimed Pomp wrathfully. He kicked at the cat; but she was lucky enough to escape, and ran out of the room as fast as her four legs could carry her.
Dis fine house, suh, wid de red cyarpets and shiny bureaus, it's all hired; and de man talkin' scan'lous about de rent. Dat debble 'scuse me, Lawd he done in Yo' hands fer jedgment, now he made way wid everything." The physician's silence encouraged her to continue. The history that he gleaned from Cindy's disordered monologue was an old one, of illusion, wilfulness, disaster, cruelty and pride.
"I thaw cook cut a fowl's froat vis morning. It squorked boofly." "Did it? Alas, that I missed those pleasing-er-squorks," replied the Major, and added: "This is thy natal day, my son. Thou art a man of five." "I'm a debble. I'm a norful little debble," corrected Damocles, cheerfully and with conviction. "Incidentally. But you are five also," persisted the senior man.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars a year and found," I soliloquized, as I walked down the street, "is putty good wages for a man with a modist appytite, but I reckon that it is wuth it to run the White House." "What you bowt, sah? What the debble you doin, sah?" It was the voice of an Afrikin Brother which thus spoke to me.
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