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"
Down
the
river
!
How
fur
d'ye
reck
'n
?
"
"
Ho
!
ho
!
sar
.
Dis
nigga
reck
'n
it
be
'
bout
tree
or
four
mile
--
dat
at
de
berry
leas
'
.
"
"
Three
or
four
mile
?
Ye
must
be
a
durnationed
fool
,
nigger
.
Mister
Peintdexter
's
plantation
do
n't
go
thet
fur
;
an
I
reck
'n
he
ai
n't
the
man
to
be
makin
'
a
fence
on
some
'd
y
else
's
clarin
'
.
Lookee
hyur
!
What
time
air
he
expected
hum
?
Ye
've
got
a
straighter
idee
o
'
thet
,
I
hope
?
"
"
Dey
boaf
'
pected
home
berry
soon
,
de
young
massr
and
de
ole
massr
,
and
Mass
Ca
'
houn
too
.
Ho
!
ho
!
dar
's
agwine
to
be
big
dooin
's
'
bout
dis
yar
shanty
--
yer
see
dat
fo
'
yeseff
by
de
smell
ob
de
kitchen
.
Ho
!
ho
!
All
sorts
o
'
gran
'
feassin
'
--
do
roas
'
an
de
bile
,
an
de
barbecue
;
de
pot-pies
,
an
de
chicken
fixins
.
Ho
!
ho
!
ai
n't
thar
agwine
to
go
it
hyar
jess
like
de
ole
times
on
de
coass
ob
de
Massippy
!
Hoora
fo
'
ole
Mass
Poindex
'
er
!
He
de
right
sort
.
Ho
!
ho
!
'
tranger
!
why
you
no
holla
too
:
you
no
friend
ob
de
massr
?
"
"
Durn
you
,
nigger
,
do
n't
ye
remember
me
?
Now
I
look
into
yur
ugly
mug
,
I
recollex
you
.
"
"
Gorramighty
!
'
tai
n't
Mass
'
Tump
--
'
t
use
to
fotch
de
ven
's
on
an
de
turkey
gobbla
to
de
ole
plantashun
?
By
de
jumbo
,
it
am
,
tho
'
.
Law
,
Mass
'
Tump
,
dis
nigga
'm
embers
you
like
it
wa
de
day
afore
yesserday
.
Ise
heern
you
called
de
odder
day
;
but
I
war
away
from
'
bout
de
place
.
I
'm
de
coachman
now
--
dribes
de
carriage
dat
carries
de
lady
ob
de
'
tablishment
--
de
bewful
Missy
Loo
.
Lor
,
massr
,
she
berry
fine
gal
.
Dey
do
say
she
beat
Florinday
into
fits
.
Nebba
mind
,
Mass
'
Tump
,
you
better
wait
till
ole
massr
come
home
.
He
am
a
bound
to
be
hya
,
in
de
shortess
poss
'
ble
time
.
"
"
Wal
,
if
thet
's
so
,
I
'll
wait
upon
him
,
"
rejoined
the
hunter
,
leisurely
lifting
his
leg
over
the
saddle
--
in
which
up
to
this
time
he
had
retained
his
seat
.
"
Now
,
ole
fellur
,
"
he
added
,
passing
the
bridle
into
the
hands
of
the
negro
,
"
you
gi'e
the
maar
half
a
dozen
yeers
o
'
corn
out
o
'
the
crib
.
I
've
rid
the
critter
better
'n
a
score
o
'
miles
like
a
streak
o
'
lightnin
'
--
all
to
do
yur
master
a
sarvice
.
"
"
Oh
,
Mr
Zebulon
Stump
,
is
it
you
?
"
exclaimed
a
silvery
voice
,
followed
by
the
appearance
of
Louise
Poindexter
upon
the
verandah
.
"
I
thought
it
was
,
"
continued
the
young
lady
,
coming
up
to
the
railings
,
"
though
I
did
n't
expect
to
see
you
so
soon
.
You
said
you
were
going
upon
a
long
journey
.
Well
--
I
am
pleased
that
you
are
here
;
and
so
will
papa
and
Henry
be
.
Pluto
!
go
instantly
to
Chloe
,
the
cook
,
and
see
what
she
can
give
you
for
Mr
Stump
's
dinner
.
You
have
not
dined
,
I
know
.
You
are
dusty
--
you
've
been
travelling
?
Here
,
Morinda
!
Haste
you
to
the
sideboard
,
and
pour
out
some
drink
.
Mr
Stump
will
be
thirsty
,
I
'm
sure
,
this
hot
day
.
What
would
you
prefer
--
port
,
sherry
,
claret
?
Ah
,
now
,
if
I
recollect
,
you
used
to
be
partial
to
Monongahela
whisky
.
I
think
there
is
some
.
Morinda
,
see
if
there
be
!
Step
into
the
verandah
,
dear
Mr
Stump
,
and
take
a
seat
.
You
were
inquiring
for
papa
?
I
expect
him
home
every
minute
.
I
shall
try
to
entertain
you
till
he
come
.
"
