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Winter Evening Tales by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr
page 91 of 256 (35%)
the still black bayous, he soon came to a little clearing in the
cypress.

Here a young man was standing in an attitude of expectancy--a very
handsome man clothed in the picturesque costume of a ranchero. He leaned
upon his rifle, but betrayed both anger and impatience in the rapid
switching to and fro of his riding-whip. "Plato, she has not come!" He
said it reproachfully, as if the negro was to blame.

"I done tole you, Massa Davie, dat Miss Lulu neber do noffing ob dat
kind; ole massa 'ticlarly objects to Miss Lulu seeing you at de present
time."

"My father objects to every one I like."

"Ef Massa Davie jist 'lieve it, ole massa want ebery thing for his
good."

"You oversize that statement considerably, Plato. Tell my father, if he
asks you, that I am going with Jim Whaley, and give Miss Lulu this
letter."

"I done promise ole massa neber to gib Miss Lulu any letter or message
from you, Massa Davie."

In a moment the youth's handsome face was flaming with ungovernable
passion, and he lifted his riding-whip to strike.

"For de Lord Jesus' sake don't strike, Massa Davie! Dese arms done
carry you when you was de littlest little chile. Don't strike me!"
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