Sometimes she'd try to git ole Marse to take dere part when de oberseer got too mean.

But she might as well a sung hymns to a dead horse.

All her putty talk war like porin water on a goose's back.

He'd jis' bluff her off, an' tell her she didn't run dat plantation, and not for her to bring him any nigger news.

I never thought ole Marster war good to her.