The
little box seemed heavy, and was wholly unlike anything he ever
seen before.
"Ob cose it's got money in it," Jeff reasoned. "Nuffin else 'ud be
done up to tight and strong. I'se woan open it jes' yet, feared de
missus or de colored boys 'spec' someting. Ki! I isn't a-gwine ter
be tied up, an' hab dat box whip out in me. I'll tink how I kin
hide an' spen' de money kine of slowcution like." With this he
restored the prize to its shallow excavation and covered it with
leaves that no trace of fresh earth might be visible.
Jeff's deportment now began to evince a new evolution in mental
and moral process. The influence of riches was quite as marked
upon him as upon so many of his white brothers and sisters,
proving their essential kinship. To-day he began to sniff
disdainfully at his menial tasks; and in the evening "Ole Dan
Tucker" resounded from his fiddle with a rollicking abandon over
which the cook groaned in despair, "Dat ar niggah's 'ligion drop
off ob 'im like a yaller pig from de bush. 'Ligion dat's skeert
inter us hain't no 'count anyhow.
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