'
"'Well, you is a wonderful man, Mr Sorrow,' sais Miss Phillis, 'I do
really tink dat stands to reason and experience. When I married my
fiff husband--no, it warn't my fiff, it was my sixth--I had lubly baby
tree month old, and my old man killed it maken speriments. He would
give it soup and minced veal to make it trong. Sais I, 'Mr Caesar, dat
ain't natur; fust you know it must ab milk, den pap, and so on in
order.' Sais he, 'I allus feeds master's young bull-dogs on raw meat.'
Well, Caesar died dat same identical night child did (and she gub me a
wink); 'sunthen disagreed wid him also that he eat.' ('Oh Massa,' he
continued, 'bears dat ab cubs and women dat ab childern is dangerous.)
'Mr Sorrow,' said she, 'dat is a great 'skivery of yourn; you'd best
tell missus.'
"'I is most afeard she is too much a slave to fashion,' sais I.
"'Uncle,' said she, 'you mustn't say dat ob dear Miss Lunn, or I must
decline de onor to dine wid you. It ain't spectful. Mr Sorrow, my
missus ain't de slave ob fashion--she sets it, by golly!' and she
stood up quite dignant.
"'Sambo, clar out ob dis dinin' room quick stick,' sais I to de
waiter; 'you is so fond ob lookin' out on de field, you shall go work
dere, you lazy hound; walk out ob de room dis minit; when I has
finished my dinner, I will make you jine de labor gang. Miss Phillis,
do resume your seat agin, you is right as you allus is; shall I ab de
honour to take glass ob wine wid you?'
"Now, Massa, try dat 'skivery; you will be able to eat tree times as
much as you do now.
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