“Yes, suh, ’twuz a by-word wid de childun. No matter what happen, er when it happen, er ef ’tain’t happen, ’twuz ’fo’ er atter ‘de day when Jess went a-fiddlin’.’ Hit look like dat Marse Gabe sorter drapt a notch or two in folks’ min’s. Yit he helt his head dez ez high. He bleeze ter hol’ it high, ’kaze he had in ’im de blood uv bofe de Tumlins an’ de Perdues; I dunner how much, but ’nuff fer ter keep his head up. “I ain’t no almanac, suh, but I never is ter fergit de year when Jess went a-fiddlin. ’Twuz sixty, ’kaze de nex’ year de war ’gun ter bile, an’ ’twa’n’t long ’fo’ it biled over. Yes, suh! dar wuz de war come on an Jess done gone. Dey banged aloose, dey did, dem on der side, an’ we on our’n, an’ dey kep’ on a bangin’ twel we-all can’t bang no mo’. An’ den de war hushed up, an’ freedom come, an’ still nobody ain’t hear tell er Jesse. Den you come down dar, suh, an’ stay what time you did; still nobody ain’t hear tell er Jesse. He mought er writ ter his ma, but ef he did, she kep’ it mighty close. Marse Gabe ain’t los’ no flesh ’bout it, an’ ef he los’ any sleep on account er Jess, he ain’t never brag ’bout it. “Well, suh, it went on dis away twel, ten year atter Jess went a-fiddlin’, his wife come home. Yes, suh! His wife! Well! I wuz stan’in’ right in de hall talkin’ wid Miss Fanny—dat’s Jesse’s ma—when she come, an’ when de news broke on me you could ’a’ knockt me down wid a permeter fan. De house-gal show’d ’er in de parler, an’ den come atter Miss Fanny. Miss Fanny she went in dar, an’ I stayed outside talkin’ wid de house-gal. De gal say, ‘Aunt Minervy Ann, dey sho’ is sump’n n’er de matter wid dat white lady. She white ez any er de dead, an’ she can’t git ’er breff good.’ ’Bout dat time, I hear somebody cry out in de parler, an’ den I hear sump’n fall. De house-gal cotch holt er me an’ ’gun ter whimper. I shuck ’er off, I did, an’ went right straight in de parler, an’ dar wuz Miss Fanny layin’ face fo’mus’ on a sofy wid a letter in ’er han’ an’ de white lady sprawled out on de flo’. “Well, suh, you can’t skeer me wid trouble ’kaze I done see too much; so I shuck Miss Fanny by de arm an’ ax ’er what de matter, an’ she cry out, ‘Jesse’s dead an’ his wife come home.’ She uz plum heart-broke, suh, an’ I ’speck I wuz blubberin’ some myse’f when Marse Gabe walkt in, but I wuz tryin’ ter work wid de white lady on de flo’. ’Twix’ Marse Gabe an’ Miss Fanny, ’twuz sho’ly a tryin’ time. When one er dem hard an’ uppity men lose der grip on deyse’f, dey turn loose ever’thing, an’ dat wuz de way wid Marse Gabe. When dat de case, sump’n n’er got ter be done, an’ it got ter be done mighty quick.” Aunt Minervy Ann paused here and rubbed her hands together contemplatively, as if trying to restore the scene more completely to her memory.