“So den, de nex' thing I does, I goes up de wharf to de house whar my ha'f sister, Rosalie--you knows dat 'ooman?--does cookin' fur a w'ite fambly; an' I goes round de house an' knocks at de kitchen do', but t'ain't nobody answers. I keeps on knockin', an' after a spell de boss of de house, a w'ite man, name of Futrell, he come out on de back po'ch in his night-clo'es, wid a lamp in his hand, an' he suttinly do act 'stonished to see me standin' dar; an' he ax me p'intedly ain't I drownded; an' I tells him No, suh; suttinly I ain't drownded! An' I ax him whar is Rosalie. An' he say, ef she ain't in her cabin in de yard, he reckon she must 'a' come on up yere to dis yere hall fur some kind of nigger doin's. Dat's de fust I knows 'bout her livin' on de Futrell place. “So I goes out to de cabin in de yard; but she done gone, leavin' de do' unlocked an' on de jar. So I goes in an' meks a light an' looks 'bout me; an' I finds sixty cents under a mat on de washstand, w'ich on my way yere I spends dat sixty cents fur gin at de Bleedin' Heart Saloon, 'ca'se I's wet to de skin, ez you kin see fur yo'se'f. An' so den I meks my way to dis hall, 'ca'se I p'intedly does aim to drag dat dere 'ooman out an' ax her whut put it into her fool haid to go all round town tellin' folkses I's drownded w'en she know, her ownse'f, dey ain't nary river ever been dug deep 'nuff to drownd me in.” His voice became complaining now, rather than indignant: “Fur de las' ha'f hour, mo' or less, I been tryin' to git up dem stepses. But seem lak dem stepses is a heap mo' steeper'n whut dey used to be. Whut mek 'em steepen dem stepses fur, Jeff?” A sudden drowsiness overcame the narrator and he sought to slump down against the wall. But Jeff upheld him, against his will; and a minute later Jeff's words had roused him out of his gin-born daze: “Lis'en to me, Red Hoss; lis'en! I jes' come down frum up dere. I come away; 'ca'se I's yore friend, an' I jes' natchelly couldn't bear to set dere no longer an' heah 'em scandalise you de way dey's doin'.” “Scandalise me! Who's scandalisin' me?” “Ever'body is; but specially de pastor of de Fust Ward Church--yas, suh; he's de main scandaliser. An' dat sister of your'n, she's settin' there harkin' to him, same ez ef he wuz tellin' her some good news.” “Lemme go! Lemme go! I lay I'll learn dem niggers to be 'stroyin' my good name behine my back!” The victim of calumny, all wide-awake now, wrestled to be free of the detaining hands. After a little, though, he suffered his form to relax and his struggles to abate as Jeff poured agreeable advice upon him.