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"
Wid
all
de
fightin
'
up
de
road
an
'
de
Yankees
'
cross
de
river
an
'
us
not
knowin
'
whut
wuz
gwine
ter
happen
ter
us
an
'
de
fe'el
han
's
runnin
'
off
eve
'
y
night
,
Ah
's
'
bout
crazy
.
But
Miss
Ellen
jes
'
as
cool
as
a
cucumber
.
'
Cept
she
wuz
worried
ter
a
ghos
'
'
bout
de
young
Misses
kase
we
couldn
'
git
no
medicines
nor
nuthin
'
.
An
'
one
night
she
say
ter
me
affer
we
done
sponge
off
de
young
Misses
'
bout
ten
times
,
she
say
,
'
Mammy
,
effen
Ah
could
sell
mah
soul
,
Ah
'd
sell
it
fer
some
ice
ter
put
on
mah
gals
'
haids
.
'
"
She
would
n't
let
Mist
'
Gerald
come
in
hyah
,
nor
Rosa
nor
Teena
,
nobody
but
me
,
kase
Ah
done
had
de
typhoy
.
An
'
den
it
tuck
her
,
Miss
Scarlett
,
an
'
Ah
seed
right
off
dat
'
twarnt
no
use
.
"
Mammy
straightened
up
and
,
raising
her
apron
,
dried
her
streaming
eyes
.
"
She
went
fas
'
,
Miss
Scarlett
,
an
'
even
dat
nice
Yankee
doctah
couldn
'
do
nuthin
'
fer
her
.
She
din
'
know
nuthin
'
a-tall
.
Ah
call
ter
her
an
'
talk
ter
her
but
she
din
'
even
know
her
own
Mammy
.
"
"
Did
she
--
did
she
ever
mention
me
--
call
for
me
?
"
"
No
,
honey
.
She
think
she
is
lil
gal
back
in
Savannah
.
She
din
'
call
nobody
by
name
.
"
Dilcey
stirred
and
laid
the
sleeping
baby
across
her
knees
.
"
Yes
'm
,
she
did
.
She
did
call
somebody
.
"
"
You
hesh
yo
'
mouf
,
you
Injun-nigger
!
"
Mammy
turned
with
threatening
violence
on
Dilcey
.
"
Hush
,
Mammy
!
Who
did
she
call
,
Dilcey
?
Pa
?
"
