THE CHRONICLES OF AUNT MINERVY ANN
due. When you see me pinin', suh, you may know my tongue done cut out an' my han's pairlized. Ef Mary Ellen had 'a' been my chile dey'd 'a' been murder done, suh, I'd 'a' cotch ol' Fed Tatum by what little hair he had an' I'd 'a' ruint 'im; an' ez 'twuz, I come mighty nigh havin' a fight wid 'im. An' ef I had—ef I had"
Aunt Minervy Ann was on her feet. Her right arm was raised high in the air, and her eyes blazed with passion. It was not a glimpse of temper she gave us, but a fleeting portrayal of mother-love at white heat. She had been carried away by her memory, and had carried us away with her; but she caught herself, as it were, in the act, laughed, and sat down again by the sofa, caressing it with both arms. Presently she resumed her narrative, addressing herself this time to the lady of the house. It was a stroke of rare tact that had its effect.
"Wellum, Mary Ellen wa'n't my chile, an' ol' Fed Tatum sont 'er off up dar 'mongst de Northrons; an' 'bout de time de two sides 'gun der battlin' he sol' some lan' an' sont her 'nuff money ter las' 'er twel she got all de larnin' she want. Den de war come, an' nobody ain't hear no mo' 'bout Mary Ellen. Dey fit an' dey fout, an' dey font an' dey fit, an' den, bimeby, dey quit, an' fer long
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