"I nerver know'd why Squire diden' want your mar ter sell him ter hees own
mammy. It looked unnatchel. Free Fanny, that's hees mammy, wuz mity rich,
en owned six colored peeple hersef. Shee's liven' yet en the city, en
when she dies Squire will get her money.

"Well, when yer par sed that, your mar sed:

"'I cuden' sell them ef I wanter; you know that, Robert, en I don'
wanter.'

"Then your par, he spoke up sharp:

"'It's nonsense, it's wuss than nonsense fur the liven' ter be so bound by
the dead. Sarcumstances are allers changen'. I say you've got no rite ter
think of everbody fo' you duz me. En its jes' cum ter this pass, you've
got ter chuse twixt them en me. You've got ter sell 'em en sell this place
en go with me, war I kin make the liven' I wuz eddiketed for, or I'll
brake luse mysef, en go. I can't stan' this life no longer.'

"Then your mar sed:

"'I wud be miserbel, Robert, ef I broke my father's will. It would kill
me, I do believe. Besides, I wuden' sell em, ef I diden' have er cent ter
buy er crust of braid with, even ef I wuzen' boun' by the will. En ez fur
sellen' this place, war I wuz born'd en raze, I never spec' ter. I wan'er
live en die rite here. Besides, there's Aunt Betsy. She wud never consent
ter go away fum here, en I cuden' leave her by hersef.'

"Yer par git up then, en slam the do, 'en I never heerd no mo'. 'Twuz the