Kentucky -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Slavery -- United States -- Fiction
"What are you doing in there?"
"Talking to myself. Go on and I will come in a moment."
"I told you not to drink that brandy--I knew how it would be."
"Yes, you knew how it would be and I know how it is, so we are about
even. Go on, and I will be there in a moment."
The door creaked again, and I heard her footsteps as she went away. Old
Master got up. "Dan," he whispered, "if you ever say a word, I'll whip
you. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have told Bob. But you musn't talk about it even to him. There, now,
go on to bed."
"And will you go to bed too?" I asked.
"What's that to you, nighthawk? Go to bed, and if I catch you up again
to-night, I'll whip you."
CHAPTER III.
Early at morning, Bob and I were summoned by Old Master to go squirrel
hunting, to walk round the trees, and turn the squirrel into range
of his long rifle and the deadly squint of his sharp old eye. It was
spring-time and the squirrels were nipping the hickory buds; it was
sunrise and the bold cock-partridge, his feathers ruffled, strutted up
and down the top rail of the fence. We had not proceeded far before we
came upon a neighbor, 'Squire Boyle, sitting upon a log, picking at
the lock of his gun. He hailed Old Master and bade him wait a moment.
And both men, seated upon the log, fell into an argument that lasted
till the sun was high. We heard the blowing of the breakfast horn, we
saw the smoke rise in the fields, where the women were burning the
old corn-stalks; we saw the men breaking up the tobacco land, but
Old Master and the squire sat there and talked, and sometimes I was
afraid that they were going to fight, so fierce were their gestures
and so loud did they lift their voices. Bob and I were impatient, and
occasionally Bob would say, "Come on, pa." But the old man heeded him
not, until finally he turned about with anger in his eyes, and cried
out as if in pain: "If you don't quit nagging at me, I will box your
jaws. Go on to the house, both of you. 'Zounds, I can't budge but these
boys are dogging my foot-steps. Go on to the house and if I catch you
following me again, I'll whip you both."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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