ill is read, yo' ma tell
y'uncle Dan fo' to neveh mine his rights aw his lef's; he kin go on
ownin' Phyllis and de chile, but, all de same, he cayn't have 'em. An'
when he paw de groun' an' th'ow dus' on his back yo' pa dess--go an' see
him. Wheneveh yo' pa dess go an' see anybody, you know----"

Ramsey knew. She tinkled with delight.

"But den come wuss trouble. 'Caze 'bout dat time----"

About that time Ramsey whisked round and stood so as to give Hugh
Courteney, as he came on deck, a square view of her young back. He
noticed her better length of skirt.

"Go on," she murmured. "Is he coming this way?"

"Co'se he ain't. He gwine up to de pilot-house."

"Humph, how _awful_ busy! That's just for grandeur. Go on." And while
the leafy jaws of the chute drew them in and all the air was suddenly
filled with the boat's sounds flung back from every rippling bough, tree
top, and mass of draping vines, the nurse went on:

"'Bout dat time yo' pa he git de hahdess ovehseeh he eveh did git, an'
you can't 'spute de fact dat yo' pa he take' natchiully to hahd men, an'
hahd men take natchiully to him. You kin say dat to his credits."

"Yes," replied Ramsey, "yes," sighing, gesticulating, whimpering in
ecstasies of sight as the walls of the watery lane cramped in to half
its first width. They seemed to rush past of their own volition, while
out beyond them on either hand the whole dense gray-green interwoven
wilderness, with ceremonial stateliness, swung round on itself in slow
time to the windy speed of the _Votaress_.

XVII

"IT'S A-HAPPMIN' YIT--TO WE ALL"

Nevertheless, "Go on!" cried Ramsey. "How could the overseer be hard on
Phyllis if Phyllis was mom-a's maid?"

"Phyllis fo'ce' him to it! 'Caze all dat time, while she sweet as roses
wid yo' ma--so's to keep in cahoots wid heh an' not have noth'n' to do
wid niggehs o' no breed, pyo', half, quahteh, aw half-quahteh--she so
wild to git back to y'uncle Dan dat she----"

"And to leave mom-a! The goosy-goosy! What for?"

"Well, for one thing, by bad luck, f'om fus' sight, de ovehseeh he
_fancy_ Phyllis. Y'un'stan'----"

"I don't! I don't want to--Go on!"

"Humph! Phyllis un'stan'. She un'stan' so well an' so quick dat de fus'
drizzly night when de rain 'u'd spile de trail--de scent--she up wid de
chile an' putt out."

"For my uncle Dan! Walnut Hills! Go on!" The moving scene was forgotten
though the chute was widening again.

"Well, de ovehseeh, o' co'se