The Littlest Rebel by Edward Henry Peple
page 11 of 195 (05%)
page 11 of 195 (05%)
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fam'lies what is!"
But Uncle Billy knew the fortunes of the Cary family far too well to mourn over the probable toughness of his booty, and as he rose up from the seat and meandered toward the kitchen, his old, wrinkled face broke into a broad smile of satisfaction over the surprise he had in store. "Well--after I done parbile you, I reckon Miss Hallie be mighty glad to see you. Yas, _seh_!" But as Uncle Billy walked slowly along beside the hedge which shielded the house on one side he heard a sound which made him halt. A young negro, coming from the rear, had dodged behind the hedge and was trying to keep out of his sight. "Hi, dar! You, Jeems Henry!" shouted Uncle Billy, instantly suspicious of such maneuvers. "Come heh! Hear _me_! Come heh!" At this sudden command a young mulatto, hesitating, came through a break in the hedge and stood looking at him, sullen and silent. In his hands he carried a small bundle done up in a colored handkerchief and on this guilty piece of baggage Uncle Billy's eye immediately fastened with an angry frown. "Whar you gwine?" demanded Uncle Billy, with an accusing finger trembling at the bundle. The younger man made no reply. "Hear _me_?" the elder demanded again in rising tones of severity. "Ain't you got no tongue in yo' haid? Whar you gwine?" |
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