"
"I reckon that was Isaac Cannon, t'other Levite that never sees anything
that ain't in his quoshint."
"How's the purty gals, Jimmy? I shall see' em in my dreams, I' spect, if
I _am_ sold Souf. I ain't got long to stay, nohow, Jimmy, fur I'm mos'
sixty. If you ever git out, tell my marster to buy dat gal Virgie, an'
make her free. She ain't fit to be a slave."
"Gals has their place," said Phoebus, "but not whair men has to fight
for liberty. How many fighting men are we here?"
"I 'spect you's de only one, Jimmy; we's all chained up; dese
nigger-dealers is all blacksmifs an' keeps balls, hobbles, gripes, an'
clevises, an' loads us wid iron."
"Who is that woman back yonder so quare an' still?"
"Why, Jimmy, don't you know Aunt Hominy, Jedge Custis's ole cook? Dey
brought her in dis mornin' wi' two little children outen Teackle Hall
kitchen; one of dem you give dat silver to--little Ned. Hominy ain't
said a word sence she come."
Jimmy Phoebus went back to the corner of the den where the old woman
cowered, and called her name in many different accents and with kind
assurances:
"Hominy, ole woman, don't you know Ellenory's Jimmy? Jedge Custis is
comin' for you, aunty. I'm yer to take you home."
She did not speak at all, and Phoebus lifted her without resistance
nearer to the moonlight. Her lips mumbled unintelligibly, her eyes were
dull, she did not seem to know them.
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