It looks to me ez ef dey ralely lob'd her shadder.

She sits by 'em so patient, an' writes 'em sech nice letters to der frens, an' yit she looks so heart-broke an' pitiful, it jis' gits to me, an' makes me mos' ready to cry.

I'm so glad dat Marse Tom had to gib her up.

He war too mean to eat good victuals." "He ought," said Robert, "to be made to live on herrings' heads and cold potatoes.

It makes my blood boil just to think that he was going to have that lovely looking young girl whipped for his devilment.