thet the Cunnel's
'ooman cudn't bee _all_ stun; so I gose thar agin; an' I toled har what
the loryer sed, an' made a reg'lar stump-'peal tew har bettar natur. I
axed har eff she'd leff the 'ooman who'd made har husban's fortun, who
war the muther ov his chil'ren, who fur twenty yar, hed nussed him in
sickness, an' cheered him in healtf; ef shede let _thet 'ooman_, bee
auckyund off ter th' hi'est bider. I axed al thet, an' what der ye think
she sed, Why jest this. '_I_ doant no nuthin' bout it, Mister Jones. Ye
raily must talke ter mi loryer; them maters I leaves 'tirely ter him.'
Then, I sed, I 'spozed the niggers war ter bee advertist. 'O, yas!' she
sed, (an' ye see, she know'd a d----d site 'bout _thet_), 'all on 'em
muss be solde, 'case, ye knows, I never did luv the kuntry,--'sides _I_
cud'ent karry on the plantashun, no how.' Then, sed I: 'the Orlean's
traders 'ill be thar--an' she wunt sell fur but one use, fur she's
hansum yit; an' ma'am, ye wunt leff a 'ooman as white as you is, who fur
twenty yar, hes ben a tru an' fatheful _wife_ tar yer own ded husban,'
(I shudn't hev put thet in, but d----d ef I cud help it,) ye wunt put
_har_ up on the block, an' hev har struck down ter the hi'est bider, ter
bee made a d---- d---- on?'

"Wal, I s'pose she hadent forgot thet, fur more'n twelve yar, the Cunnel
hed _luv'd_ t'other 'ooman, an' onely _liked_ har; fur w'en I sed thet,
har ize snapped like h--l, an' she screetched eout thet she dident 'low
no sech wurds in har hous', an' ordurd me ter leave. Mi'tey sqeemish
thet, warn't it? bein' as shede ben fur so mony yar the Cunnel's ----,
an' th' tuther one his raal wife.

"Wal, I _did_ leav'; but I left a piece of mi mind a-hind. I toled har
I'de buy that ar 'ooman ef she cost all I war wuth and I had ter pawne
my sole ter git the money; an' I added, jess by way ov sweet'nin' the
pill, thet I ow'd all I hed ter har husband, an' dident furget _my_
debts ef she did _her'n_, an' ef his own wife disgraced him, I'd be
d----d ef _I_ wud.

"Wal, I've got th' ma'am an' har boy ter hum, an' my 'ooman hes tuk ter
har a heep. I doant no w'en the sale's ter cum off, but ye may bet hi'
on my beein' thar; an' I'll buy har ef I hev ter go my hull pile on har,
an' borrer th' money fur ole Pomp. But _he'll_ go cheap, 'case the
Cunnel's deth nigh dun him up. It clean killed Ante Lucey. She never
held her hed up arter she heerd 'Masser Davy' war dead, fur she sot har
vary life on him. Don't