en dey hid her in a crick ’mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin’ ’bout which un ’um she b’long to de mos’ dat I come to heah ’bout it pooty soon, so I ups en settles de trouble by tellin’ ’um she don’t b’long to none uv ’um, but to you en me; en I ast ’m if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman’s propaty, en git a hid’n for it? Den I gin ’m ten cents apiece, en dey ’uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo’ raf’s ’ud come along en make ’m rich ag’in. Dey’s mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever I wants ’m to do fur me I doan’ have to ast ’m twice, honey.

Dat Jack’s a good nigger, en pooty smart.”

“Yes, he is. He ain’t