International Short Stories: American — John Shaqi
International Short Stories: American
General
International Short Stories: American
Short stories, American
"I don't think noffin about it--I nose it. What make him dream 'bout
de goole so much, if 'taint cause he bit by the goole-bug? Ise heered
'bout dem goole-bugs 'fore dis."
"But how do you know he dreams about gold?"
"How I know? why, 'cause he talk about it in he sleep--dat's how I
nose."
"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstance
am I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"
"What de matter, massa?"
"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"
"No, massa, I bring dis here pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a note
which ran thus:
"My Dear--: Why have I not seen you for so long a time? I hope you
have not been so foolish as to take offence at any little brusquerie of
mine; but no, that is improbable.
"Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety. I have something
to tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, or whether I should tell
it at all.
"I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoys
me, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions. Would you
believe it?--he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with which to
chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, solus, among
the hills on the main land. I verily believe that my ill looks alone
saved me a flogging.
"I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met.
"If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter.
Do come. I wish to see you to-night, upon business of importance. I
assure you that it is of the highest importance.
"Ever yours,
"William Legrand."
There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great
uneasiness. Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand.
What could he be dreaming of? What new crotchet possessed his
excitable brain? What "business of the highest importance" could he
possibly have to transact? Jupiter's account of him boded no good. I
dreaded lest the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length,
fairly unsettled the reason of my friend. Without a moment's
hesitation, therefore, I prepared to accompany the negro.
Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all
apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to
embark.
"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired.
"Him syfe, massa, and spade."
"Very true; but what are they doing here?"
"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will sis pon my buying for him in
de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for 'em."
"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will'
going to do with scythes and spades?"
"Dat's more dan _I_ know, and debbil take me if I don't b'lieve 'tis
more dan he know, too. But it's all cum ob de bug."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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