Scribner's Magazine, Volume 26, October 1899 — John Shaqi
Scribner's Magazine, Volume 26, October 1899Various
History
Scribner's Magazine, Volume 26, October 1899
Various
American periodicals
"Dem Gossett boys brush deyse'f off good ez dey kin an' den dey put out
fer home. Soon ez dey git out er sight, Marse Tumlin started in ter
projickin'. He walk all 'roun' me a time er two, an' den he blow out
his breff like folks does when dey er kinder tired. He look at me, an'
say, '_Well, I be dam!_' 'Dat would 'a' been de word,' sez I, 'ef ol'
Minervy Ann hadn't 'a' been here dis day an' hour.' He shuck his head
slow. 'You hit de mark dat time,' sez he; 'ef you hadn't 'a' been here,
Minervy Ann, dem boys would sholy 'a' smasht me; but ef I hadn't 'a'
been here, I reely b'lieve you'd 'a' frailed out de whole gang. You had
two whipt, Minervy Ann, an' you wuz hankerin' fer de yuther one. I'll
hatter sw'ar ter de facts 'fo' anybody'll b'lieve um.' I 'low, ''Tain't
no use ter tell nobody, Marse Tumlin. Folks think I'm bad 'nuff now.'
"But, _shoo_! Marse Tumlin would 'a' mighty nigh died ef he couldn't
tell 'bout dat day's work. I ain't min' dat so much, but it got so dat
when de Gossetts come ter town an' start ter prankin', de town boys 'ud
call um by name, an' holla an' say, 'You better watch out dar! Minervy
Ann Perdue comin' 'roun' de cornder!' Dat wuz so errytatin', suh, dat
it kyo'd um. Dey drapt der dram-drinkin' an' spreein', an' now dey er
high in Horeb Church. Dey don't like me, suh, an' no wonder; but ef dey
kin git ter hev'm widout likin' me, I'd be glad ter see um go.
"Well, suh, I call de ol' cow, an' she foller long on 'er side er de
briers, an' when she got whar de gap wuz, she curl 'er tail over 'er
back an' put out fer home, des for all de worl' like she glad 'kaze me
an' Marse Tumlin frailed out de Gossett boys.
"I say, 'Marse Tumlin, I'm a member er de church an' I don't b'lieve in
fightin', but ef we hadn't er fit wid dem Gossetts we'd 'a' never foun'
dat ol' cow in de roun' worl'.' He 'low, 'An' ef we hadn't er fit wid
um, Minervy Ann, I'd 'a' never know'd who ter take wid me fer ter keep
de booger-man fum gittin' me.'
"Dat night, suh, Marse Bolivar Blasengame come rappin' at my do'. Hamp
wuz done gone ter bed, an' I wuz fixin' ter go. Marse Bolivar come in,
he did, an' shuck han's wid me like he ain't seed me sence de big war.
Den he sot down over ag'in' me an' look at me, an' make me tell 'im all
'bout de rumpus. Well, suh, he got ter laughin', an' he laughed twel he
can't hardly set in de cheer. He say, 'Minervy Ann, ef dem folks say a
word ter hurt yo' feelin's, don't tell Tumlin. Des come a-runnin' ter
me. He done had his han's on um, an' now I want ter git mine on um.'
"Dat 'uz de way wid Marse Bolivar. He wa'n't no great han' ter git in
a row, but he wuz mighty hard ter git out'n one when he got in. When
he start out he stop on de step an' say, 'Minervy Ann, I didn't know
you wuz such a rank fighter.' 'I'm a Perdue,' sez I. Wid dat he got ter
laughin' an' fur ez I kin hear 'im he wuz still a-laughin'. He b'longed
ter a mighty fine fambly, suh; you know dat yo'se'f."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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