Da's like de speret o' light er wrappin' round yo' fingers."
"Mammy, they are but glittering memories."
"Yas'm, da do shine might'ly ef dat whut you means."
Tom and Lou were going out. "Don't stray off," said Mrs. Mayfield. "We
are going to the post office, you know."
"Yes, if that fetch-taked nigger ever gits the hoss hitched up,"
Margaret spoke up.
Jasper snatched up his hat. "Oh, he'd hitch up a hoss to the fou'th of
July jest about in time to drive up to the front door of Christmas. I'll
go and see about it myse'f. Slowest nigger I ever seed," and muttering
he went out. Old mammy, still looking at the city woman's rings, began
softly to croon: "I neber seed er po' ole nigger dat didn't like rings.
I had er whole lot o' 'em once, but da turned green, an' da'd pizen me
ef I teched 'em wid my mouf. But one time Mars Jasper gib me one dat
didn't turn green, an' I lost it. You allus loses de best, you know.
Honey, Mars Jasper is allus doin' suthin' fur me. I nussed him w'en he
wuz er chile an' he dun paid me back mo' den er hunnud times; an' w'en I
got ole an' wuz down wid de rheumatiz, an' couldn't sleep in de night
w'en de lonesome cow er lowin' on de hill-side, he sot up wid me an'
spell out de words o' de Lawd, fur he kain't read right quick.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51