"
"You black villain," said I, "do you mean to say your mistress ever
eat whole hogs?"
"Yes, Massa, in course I do, but it was abbin' dere heads on fixed her
flint for her."
"What an awful liar you are, Sorrow!"
"'Pon my sacred word and honour, Massa," he said, "I stake my
testament oat on it; does you tink dis here child now would swear to a
lie? true as preachin', Sar."
"Go on," said I, "I like to see a fellow go the whole animal while he
is about it. How many did it take to kill her?"
"Well, Massa, she told me herself, on her def bed, she didn't eat no
more nor ten or a dozen hogs, but she didn't blame dem, it was havin'
dere heads on did all the mischief. I was away when dey was cooked, or
it wouldn't a happened. I was down to Charleston Bank to draw six
hundred dollars for her, and when I came back she sent for me.
'Sorrow,' sais she, 'Plutarch has poisoned me.'
"'Oh, de black villain', sais I, 'Missus, I will tye him to a tree and
burn him.'
"'No, no,' she said, 'I will return good for ebil. Send for Rev. Mr
Hominy, and Mr Succatash, de Yankee oberseer, and tell my poor granny
Chloe her ole missus is dyin', and to come back, hot foot, and bring
Plutarch, for my disgestion is all gone.' Well, when Plutarch came she
said, 'Plue, my child, you have killed your missus by cooking de hogs
wid dere heads on, but I won't punish you, I is intendin' to
extinguish you by kindness among de plantation niggers.
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