Mars
Marrabo couldn' do nuffin' mo' d'n kill 'im an' he mought's well be dead
as hidin' in de woods wid nobody ter talk ter er look at ner nuffin'. He
had jes' come out 'n de woods an' stahted up dis ve'y road, w'en who
sh'd come 'long in a hoss 'n buggy but ole Mars Marrabo, drivin' ober
ter dat yuther brickyahd youer gwinter see now. Ben run out 'n de woods,
and fell down on his knees in de road right in front er Mars Marrabo.
Mars Marrabo had to pull on de lines an' hoi' de hoss up ter keep 'im
f'um runnin' ober Ben.
"'Git out'n de road, you fool nigger,' says Mars Marrabo, 'does yer
wanter git run ober? Whose nigger is you, anyhow?'
"I's yo' nigger, Mars Marrabo; doan yer know Ben, w'at runned erway?'
"'Yas, I knows my Ben w'at runned erway. Does you know whar he is?'
"'Why, I's yo' Ben, Mars Marrabo. Doan yer know me, marster?'
"'No, I doan know yer, yer yaller rascal! W'at de debbil yer mean by
tellin' me sich a lie? Ben wuz black ez a coal an' straight ez an'
arrer. Youer yaller ez dat clay-bank, an' crooked ez a bair'l-hoop. I
reckon youer some 'stracted nigger, tun't out by some marster w'at doan
wanter take keer er yer.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233