"We ain't
got to de las' crus' yit, an' I couldn't make my dinneh on a crus' nohow.
Dar's one ting I'se jes' got to 'sist on in de pahnaship. I don't keer
notin' 'bout 'count books and sich, but ef we'se gwine to make a fort'n
you got to hab a heap o' po'er in you'se arms. You got to hab a strong
back and feel peart all ober. Dis de ony ting I 'sist on. Now how you
gwine to be plump and strong?"
"Oh, I'm pretty strong, and I'll get stronger now that I have hope, and
see my way a little."
"Hope am bery good fer 'sert, honey, but we want somep'n solider to start
in on. You jes' set de table in de oder room, an' I'll be de brack raben
dat'll pervide. Now you must min' kase I'se doing 'cording to Scripter,
an' we neber hab no luck 'tall if we go agin Scripter."
"Very well," said Mara, laughing, "you shall have your own way. I see
through all your talk, but I know you'll feel bad if you can't carry out
your purpose. You'll have a better dinner, too."
"Yeh, yeh, she knows a heap moah'n me," thought Aun' Sheba when alone,
"but I know some tings too, bress her heart. I kin see dat her cheeks am
pale and thin an' dat her eyes am gettin' so big and brack dat her purty
face am like a little house wid big winders. She got quality blood in her
vein, shuah, but habn't got neah 'nuff. Heah's de 'terial wat gibs hope
sometimes better'n preachin," and she whipped out the steak and prepared
it for the broiler.
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