“An’ wen he sed dat, I tuck’n lef’ him, caze I seed hit wouldn’t do fur ter fool ‘long him; an’, mo’n dat, he ’gun fur ter shine his eyes out, an’ so I des off wid my hat, an’ scrape my lef’ foot, an’ said, ‘Good ebenin’, marster,’ same ez ef he wuz er white man; an’ den I tuck thu de woods tell I come ter de fork-han’s een er road, an’ I eberlastin’ dusted fum dar!  I put deze feets in motion, yer hyeard me! an’ I kep’ ’em er gwine, too, tell I come ter de outskirts uv de quarters; an’ eber sence den I ain’t stopped no Injun wat I sees in de road, an’ I ain’t meddled ‘long o’ who kilt Sis Leah, nudder, caze she’s ben in glory deze fifty years or mo’, an’ hit’s all one to her now who sculpt her.”

But now, as it was getting late, Daddy said he was afraid to stay out in the night air, as it sometimes “gun him de rheumatiz,” and wound up his remarks by saying,

“Tell yer ma I’m mighty ‘bleeged fur de cake an’ drinkin’s, an’ weneber yer gits de time, an’ kin come down hyear any ebenin’, de ole man he’ll ‘struck yer, caze he’s gwine erway fo’ long, an’ dem things wat he knows is onbeknownst ter de mos’ uv folks.”

“Where are you going, Daddy,” asked Diddie.

“I gwine ter de ‘kingdum,’ honey, an’ de Lord knows hit’s time; I ben hyear long ernuff; but hit’s ‘bout time fur me ter be er startin’ now, caze las’ Sat’dy wuz er week gone I wuz er stretchin’ my ole legs in de fiel’, an’ er rabbit run right ercross de road foreninst me, an’ I knowed it wuz er sho’ sign uv er death; an’ den, night fo’ las’, de scritch-owls wuz er talkin’ ter one ernudder right close ter my do’, an’ I knowed de time wuz come fur de ole nigger ter take dat trip; so, ef’n yer wants him ter ‘struck yer, yer’d better be er ten’in’ ter it, caze wen de Lord sen’s fur ’im he’s er gwine.”

The children were very much awed at Daddy’s forebodings, and Dumps insisted on shaking hands with him, as she felt that she would probably never see him again, and they all bade him good-night, and started for the house

“Miss Diddie, did you know ole Daddy wuz er trick nigger?” asked Dilsey, as they left the old man’s cabin.

“What’s er trick nigger?” asked Dumps.

“Wy, don’t yer know, Miss Dumps?  Trick niggers dey ties up snakes’ toofs an’ frogs’ eyes an’ birds’ claws, an’ all kineter charms; an’ den, wen dey gits mad ‘long o’ folks, dey puts dem little bags under dey do’s, or in de road somewhar, whar dey’ll hatter pass, an’ dem folks wat steps ober ’em den dey’s tricked; an’ dey gits sick, an’ dey can’t sleep uv nights, an’ dey chickens all dies, an’ dey can’t nuber hab no luck nor nuf’n tell de tricks is tuck off.  Didn’t yer hyear wat he said ‘bout’n de snakes’ an’ de folks all sez ez how ole Daddy is er trick nigger, an’ dat’s wat makes him don’t die.”

“Well, I wish I was a trick nigger, then,” remarked Dumps, gravely.

“Lordy, Miss Dumps, yer’d better not be er talkin’ like dat,” said Dilsey, her eyes open wide in horror.  “Hit’s pow’ful wicked ter be trick niggers.”