Iola Leroy Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (classic literature list txt) đ
- Author: Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Book online «Iola Leroy Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (classic literature list txt) đ». Author Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
âWell,â said Tom, âef he lobâd you so much, why didnât he set you free?â
âMarse Robert tole me, ef he died fust he war gwine ter leave me freeâ âdat I should neber sarve anyone else.â
âOh, sho!â said Tom, âpromises, like pie crusts, is made to be broken. I donât trust none ob dem. Iâse been yere dese fifteen years, anâ Iâse neber founâ any troof in dem. Anâ Iâse gwine wid dem North men soonâs I gits a chance. Anâ ef you knowed whatâs good fer you, youâd go, too.â
âNo, Tom; I canât go. When Marster Robert went to de front, he called me to him anâ said: âUncle Daniel,â anâ he was drefful pale when he said it, âI are gwine to de war, anâ I want yer to take keer of my wife anâ chillen, jisâ like yer used to take keer of me wen yer called me your little boy.â Well, dat jisâ got to me, anâ I couldnât help cryinâ, to save my life.â
âI specs,â said Tom, âyour tear bags must lie mighty close to your eyes. I wouldnât cry ef dem Yankees would make ebery one ob dem go to de front, anâ stay dere foreber. Deyâd only be gittinâ back what deyâs been a doinâ to us.â
âMarster Robert war nebber bad to me. Anâ I beliebs in stanninâ by dem dat stans by you. Arter Miss Anna died, I had great âsponsibilities on my shoulders; but I war orful lonesome, anâ thought Iâd like to git a wife. But dere warnât a gal on de plantation, anâ nowhereâs rounâ, dat filled de bill. So I jisâ waited, anâ âtended to Marse Robert till he war ole ânough to go to college. Wen he went, he allers âmembered me in de letters he used to write his grandma. Wen he war gone, I war lonesomer dan eber. But, one day, I jisâ seed de gal dat took de rag off de bush. Gundover had jisâ brought her from de upcountry. She war putty as a picture!â he exclaimed, looking fondly at his wife, who still bore traces of great beauty. âShe had putty hair, putty eyes, putty mouth. She war putty all over; anâ she knowâd how to put on style.â
âO, Daniel,â said Aunt Katie, half chidingly, âhow you do talk.â
âWhy, itâs true. I âmember when you war de puttiest gal in dese diggins; when nobody could top your cotton.â
âI donât,â said Aunt Katie.
âWell, I do. Now, let me go on wid my story. De fust time I seed her, I sez to myself, âDatâs de gal for me, anâ I means to hab her ef I kin git her.â So I scraped âquaintance wid her, and axed her ef she would hab me ef our marsters would let us. I warnât âfraid âbout Marse Robert, but I warnât quite shore âbout Gundover. So when Marse Robert comâd home, I axed him, anâ he larfâd anâ said, âAll right,â anâ dat he would speak to ole Gundover âbout it. He didnât relish it bery much, but he didnât like to âfuse Marse Robert. He wouldnât sell her, for she tended his dairy, anâ war mighty handy âbout de house. He said, I mought marry her anâ come to see her wheneber Marse Robert would gib me a pass. I wanted him to sell her, but he wouldnât hear to it, so I had to put up wid what I could git. Marse Robert war mighty good to me, but ole Gundoverâs wife war de meanest woman dat I eber did see. She used to go out on de plantation anâ boss things like a man. Arter I war married, I had a baby. It war de dearest, cutest little thing you eber did see; but, pore thing, it got sick and died. It died âbout three oâclock; and in de morninâ, Katie, habbin her cows to milk, lef her dead baby in de cabin. When she comâd back from milkinâ her thirty cows, anâ went to look for her pore little baby, someone had been to her cabin anâ tookâd de pore chile away anâ put it in de grounâ. Pore Katie, she didnât eben hab a chance to kiss her baby âfore it war buried. Ole Gundoverâs wife has been dead thirty years, anâ she didnât die a day too soon. Anâ my little baby has gone to glory, anâ is winginâ wid the angels anâ a lookinâ out for us. One ob de lasâ things ole Gundoverâs wife did âfore she died war to order a woman whipped âcause she comâd to de field a little late when her husband war sick, anâ she had stopped to tend him. Dat morninâ she war taken sick wid de fever, anâ in a few days she war gone out like de snuff ob a candle. She lefâ several sons, anâ I specs she would almosâ turn ober in her grave ef she knowâd she had ten culled granchillen somewhar down in de lower kentry.â
âIsnât it funny,â said Robert, âhow these white folks look down on colored people, anâ then mix up with them?â
âMarster war away when Miss âLiza treated my Katie so mean, anâ when I tole him âbout it, he war tearinâ mad, anâ went ober anâ saw ole Gundover, anâ founâ out he war hard up for money, anâ he bought Katie and brought her home to lib wid me, and weâs been a libin in clover eber sence.
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