StNicholas [serial] . desolate island, and sob the piteous refrain :I cant haf no Chrismus! What if you cant? she retorted, once. T wont pizen you to go without Christmas. But I cant go out r-a-b-b-i-t-huntin, he 1900.] THE LAST FIELD. 245 sobbed, with a tearful lingering on the wordrabbit, as if he were eating a boiled hindquarter of one. Good for the rabbits! said Barbary Allen. An I cant make me no patridge-traps. Glad of it, said Barbary Allen. It s asneaking way, to catch birds in traps. Doan yo reckon I wants somethin toeat Chrismus, sides bacon ? said LittleGuinea, warming. Yo gits you


StNicholas [serial] . desolate island, and sob the piteous refrain :I cant haf no Chrismus! What if you cant? she retorted, once. T wont pizen you to go without Christmas. But I cant go out r-a-b-b-i-t-huntin, he 1900.] THE LAST FIELD. 245 sobbed, with a tearful lingering on the wordrabbit, as if he were eating a boiled hindquarter of one. Good for the rabbits! said Barbary Allen. An I cant make me no patridge-traps. Glad of it, said Barbary Allen. It s asneaking way, to catch birds in traps. Doan yo reckon I wants somethin toeat Chrismus, sides bacon ? said LittleGuinea, warming. Yo gits you victuals fromde white folks table, an yo doan haf no I can beat yo cuttin wood, LittleGuinea yelled in retaliation. An I aintgwine ter neber cut anuther stick fer yo anyou mammy, long s I live. Lots of young gentlemen at the quarters that 11 be happy to cut wood for me, shoutedBarbary Allen. Let um do it, then, bawled Little Guinea,in return. When I pick this row down, I 11 be alldone! Barbary Allen called 1 cant see a speck of white before me CAUSE you cotton is all picked. (SEE PAGE 247.) mussy on we-all what doan haf no wheat-bread an tuckey an squince-cheese. Oh,mussy! An I cant go ter town an hoihosses to yarn picunes. Sarves you right! said Barbary Allen,with a head-toss which indicated to LittleGuinea utter heartlessness, for not workin. I does wuck, he yelled, for she wasrapidly picking away from him. You work? You mances and trances,she called back. You poke roun a cotton-stalk like a cow roun a fodder-stack. Youlet me, a lady, beat you all to pieces. Aintyou shame of youself—say, aint you? Hush you mouf! Little Guinea fairlyshrieked this. He wished he could find ahard clod to throw at the taunting girl, whohad got to the hill-crest, over which the rowsled down into the bottom-land. She wasalready disappearing down the hillside. He was a long way from this hilltop ; butthen, he was carrying all his rows, while shewas working hers one by one. He was look-


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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873