“An’ den, atter supper, such ez ’twuz, here come Hamp, an’ he say he come ter lay de law down. I ’speck I like my ol’ man ’bout ez good ez any udder ’oman what’s lawfully married, but ef I didn’t put a flea in Hamp year dat night you may shoot me dead. Ef he’d ’a’ waited a day er two, hit might er been diffunt; but, manlike, he had ter come at de wrong time, an’ he ain’t open his mouf ’fo’ I wuz fightin’ mad. Ol’ Miss allers use ter tell me I wuz a bad nigger when I got my dander up, but I never did look at myse’f dat-a-way twel dat night. “Well, Hamp he come an’ stood in de do’, but I ain’t say nothin’. Den he come in de kitchen, an’ stan’ ’roun’, but still I ain’t say nothin’. Den he sot down next de chimbley, but all dat time I ain’t say nothin’. He look right pitiful, suh, an’ ef I hadn’t been mad, I’d ’a’ been sorry fer ’im. But I ain’t say nothin’. “Bimeby, he ’low, ‘’Nervy’—he allers call me ’Nervy—‘’Nervy, whyn’t you go whar you say you gwine?’ I flung myse’f ’roun’ at ’im an’ say, ‘Bekaze I ain’t choosen ter go—dar you got it!’ He ’low, ‘Well, you start ter go, kaze I seed you!’ I say, ‘Yes, an’ I start ter come back, an’ you’d ’a’ seed dat ef you’d ’a’ looked right close.’ He ’low, ‘’Nervy, don’t you know dem folks in yander’ll think you b’long to um?’ I say, ‘I does. Ain’t I free? Can’t I b’long to um ef I wanter? I’d like ter see de one ter hender me. What dey done ter you? An’ what’s I done ter you dat you want ter drag me ’way fum my white folks? You go drag you’se’f—you can’t drag _me_.’ He ’low, ‘Dey done begin ter call you a white-folks nigger, an’ dey say you gwine back on yo’ own color.’” Aunt Minervy Ann paused here to laugh. “Mad ez I wuz, suh, de minnit Hamp said dat I know’d I had ter change my chune. I ’low, ‘I know right pine-blank who tol’ you dat. ’Twan’t nobody in de roun’ worl’ but ol’ Cely Ensign, an’ she ain’t tell you dat in comp’ny, needer. She tol’ you whar nobody can’t hear ’er but you. Don’t you fret! des ez soon ez I git thoo wid supper, I’m gwine ’roun’ dar an’ drag ’er out an’ gi’ ’er de wuss frailin’ any nigger ever got sence de overseers quit bizness. I ain’t fergot dat ar’ possum you toted off ter her house.’ “Well, suh, I had ’im! He caved in. He ’low, ‘’Twan’t no ’possum; ’twan’t nothin’ in de roun’ worl’ but a late watermillion.’ I holler, ‘_Ah-yi! watermillion!_ Well, den, ef you want ter drag anybody off fum der white folks, go an’ drag ol’ Cely Ensign—bekaze you can’t drag me.’ “We jowered right smart, but I had Hamp in a cornder. He went off an’ stayed maybe a mont’, an’ den he come back, an’ atter ’while he got ’lected ter de legislature. He done mighty well, suh. He got nine dollars a day, an’ ev’y Sat’dy night he’d fetch de bigges’ part uv it home. ’Twuz mighty handy, too, suh, kaze ef hadn’t been fer dat legislatur’ money I dunner what me and Miss Vallie an’ Marse Tumlin would ’a’ done.