A Daughter of Maryland — page 91: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WA A DAUGHTER OF MARYLAND. Orry’s resky de minnit I hear her lubly voice a-callin’ fo’ hel’ as I knowed she w’u’d be as soon as dem ha’nts found out she wuz prowlin’ round dem primises. But yit proved dey spied de hosses afore dey did her, or wot wuz more likely, dey had pity fo’ her, an’ so took fo’ de yanimals. Ennyway de fust I knowed two ob de bigges’ ha’nts yo’ eber see jesslept out’n dem bushes an’ astride dem hosses right afore my eyes! One ob dem wuz de spook ob Massa Durand suah’s yo’ bo’n, an’ de udder wuz a ’menjus bi } J nigger—bigger den me—bigger dan Sam Patch dar!’’ At this point in his thrilling narrative S’posen Jones paused, as if to enjoy the awful interest he had aroused among his associates. While he looked he scratched his woolly pate, and finally resumed : ‘*Did I holler fo’ hel’? Neber a holler from dis coon. Of coorse I fel’ mos’ fo’ Missus Orry’s Maze, an’ I jess lept like de win’ to de po’ scart creeture, an’ a-plantin’ my big, brack fis’ in de midst ob ol’ Durant’s ha’nt, I breshed de grinnin’ critter inter de bresh jess as yo’ w’u’d knock ober a fly. Den I wheeled to cl’ar dat brack imp off’n Brack Gyp. But dat dar brack ha’nt too sha’p to wait fo’ my fis’, an’ wiv one ob dem ha’nt laughs he chuncked de spurs to de po’ frightened hoss, an’ ’way de critter spun like de win’! W’at yo’ don’ den, Sam Patch? Yo’ great lubber, yo’ jess stood an’ grin. Wat yo’ do,’ Wash Scrimp? Yo’ tall, lean brack nigger, yo’ jess stood an’ shook. W’at yo’ don’, Abrnm Smith Jonah Jacskon? Yo’ long-j’inted Scarecrow, yo’ jess run fo’ yo’ good-fo’-nuffin life. W’at yod don’, etre i Fish Noscrimble? Yo’ cross- eyed——-’’ , ‘‘Well, what did you do, 8’ posen Jones?’’ interrupted Aurian, who was fearful that the story-teller’s catalogue of questions might last indefinitely. | ‘‘Bress me ef hyur ain’t Missy Orry!’’ cried the sur- prised S’posen. ‘‘I’se been turrible anxious ’bout you, missus. I s’pec’s dem ha’nts hab yo’ suah. I s’pecs yo’ Eomicboo cS (ale) m