Part 18 (2/2)
”And (would you believe it, Brother Brannum?) the outcome happened then and there right before our very face and eyes.”
”In what regards, Brother Roach?” said Brother Brannum, rubbing his bony hands together.
”Well, sir, I glanced my eye out of the door, and I see the Denham carriage coming down yan hill. I p'inted it out to the Giner'l, and he ups and says, says he--
”'Davy, though she may be a-going to town for to sue me for damages, yit, if Mizzers Denham's in that carriage, I'll salute her now,' says he; and then he took his stand in the door, as frisky as a colt and as smiling as a basket of chips. As they come up, I tetch'd the Giner'l on the shoulder.
”'Giner'l,' says I, 'look clost at that n.i.g.g.e.r on the carriage,--look clost at him,' says I.
”'Why, what the thunderation!' says he.
”'To be certain!' says I; 'that's your Blue Dave, and he looks mighty slick,' says I.
”The Giner'l forgot for to say howdy,” continued Brother Roach, laughing until he began to wheeze; ”but Mizaers Denham, she leant out of the carriage window, and said, says she--
”'Good morning, Giner'l, good morning I David is a most excellent driver,' says she.
”The Giner'l managed for to take off his hat, but he was in-about the worst-whipped-out white man I ever see. And arter the carriage got out of hearing, sir, he stood in that there door there and cussed plump tell he couldn't cuss. When a man's been to Congress and back, he's liable for to know how to take the name of the Lord in vain. But don't tell me about the wimmen, Brother Brannum. Don't!”
Blue Dave was happy at last. He became a great favourite with everybody. His voice was the loudest at the corn-shucking, his foot was the nimblest at the plantation frolics, his row was the straightest and the cleanest in the cotton-patch, his hand was the firmest on the carriage-seat, his arm was the strongest at the log-rolling. When his old mistress came to die, her wandering mind dwelt upon the negro who had served her so faithfully. She fancied she was making a journey.
”The carriage goes smoothly along here,” she said. Then, after a little pause, she asked, ”Is David driving?” and the weeping negro cried out from a corner of the room--
”'Tain't po' Dave, Mistiss! De good Lord done tuck holt er de lines.”
And so, dreaming as a little child would dream, the old lady slipped from life into the beat.i.tudes, if the smiles of the dead mean anything.
THE END
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