'Cept de overseer, dere isn't a white man on de plantation, an' I hear he has to report ter-morrer or be treated as a deserter.

An' der's nobody here to look arter Miss Mary an' de chillen, but myself, an' to see dat eberything goes right.

I promised Marse Robert I would do it, an' I mus' be as good as my word." "Well, what should you keer ?" said Tom Anderson.

"Who looked arter you when you war sole from your farder and mudder, an' neber seed dem any more, and wouldn't know dem to-day ef you met dem in your dish ?" "Well, dats neither yere nor dere.

Marse Robert couldn't help what his father did.