JIMSELLA
"Oh, cry!" he exclaimed. "Cry all you want to. I recokon you'll cry yo' fill befo' you gits me back. What do I keer about de baby! Dat 's jes' de trouble. It wa' n't enough fu' me to have to feed an' clothe you a-layin' 'roun' doin' nothin', a baby had to go an' come too."
"It 's yo'n, an' you got a right to tek keer of it, dat 's what you have. I ain't a-gwine to waih my soul-case out a-tryin' to pinch along an' sta've to def at las'. I'll kill myse'f an' de chile, too, fus."
The man looked up quickly. "Kill yo'se'f," he said. Then he laughed. "Who evah hyeahed tell of a niggah killin' hisse'f?"
"Nev' min', nev' min', you jes' go on yo' way rejoicin'. I 'spect you runnin' 'roun' aftah somebody else— dat 's de reason you cain't nevah stay at home no mo'."
"Who tol' you dat?" exclaimed the man, fiercely. "I ain't runnin' aftah nobody else— 't ain't none o' yo' business ef I is."
The denial and implied confession all came out in one breath.
"Ef hit ain' my bus'ness, I 'd like to know whose it gwine to be. I 's yo' lawful wife an'
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