"Ise consarned 'bout getting young Marse Ed'ard safe home, an' don't care nuffin' for all de white trash in de country.

Jes hitch yo' hoss an' help me lift him into de wagon." "What's de mattah ?" queried Pete, leisurely dismounting and slowly hitching his horse to a tree.
"Oh you hurry up, you ole darky!" returned Jim impatiently.

"Mr.Ed'ard's lyin' dar in de cold; 'catch his diff if you's gwine to be all night 'bout gittin' to him." "Ise got de rheumatiz, chile; ole folks can't turn roun' like young uns," returned Pete quickening his movements somewhat as he clambered over the fence and followed Jim to the spot where Eddie lay.
"Hurt, sah ?" he asked.
"A little; I fear I can hardly sit my horse--for this faintness," Eddie answered, low and feebly.

"Can you put me into your wagon and drive me to Ion ?" "Yes, sah; wid de greatest pleasah in life, sah.

Mr.Travilla and de Ion ladies ben berry kind to me an' my ole woman and de chillen." Mrs.Smith and her dirty ragged little troop had gathered round, still crying over their fright and their losses, curious too about the young gentleman who had saved the baby and was lying there on the ground so helpless.
"Are ye much hurt, Mr.Edward ?" asked the woman.