Old Lois was always shaking her head in solemn disapproval. “What has dun got into dem two chilien?” she often asked old Dan. “Dey seems to be gitting 'witched wif dem couple Norvern men. Dey cahnt eider ob 'em hold a candle to Massa Colonel Allison, who's dun gone, on Miss Marie. Why, he's de man after my own mind. His big black eyes flash like diamonds, and dat booful beard falls over his mouf like a willow tree. Doan know what young gals is tinking of nowadays.” Another shake of the head and a puckering up of the thick lips. “But here cums Dan; he never did like Massa Allison, so I won't 'spute wid him, for I 'spises family quarrels.”
Old Dan walked slowly and as if thinking deeply, up the path to the kitchen door, and stood there, looking in. Aunt Lois at first thought she would ignore his presence entirely, but curiosity triumphed, and as he showed no desire to talk, but turned off into the woods, she unbent from her dignity, and called loudly—“Dan—ole man!”
He turned impatiently, and said—“Let me alone, Ise engaged on particular business, dat wimmen don't know nufhn about conducting.”
Lois' nose went up into the air, or rather would have gone, were it not so flat and heavy she could not elevate it.
“How high and mighty old niggers can be!” was her retort. For a day or two there was an air of mystery about Dan which offended Lois deeply, but she wouldn't ask any questions. “If my ole man has any secrets from me now at his time of life, well, I'll find 'em out,” she said to herself. One forenoon he astonished her by saying—
“Does yo' like Massa Allison?”
“I dus. He's de kind of a gemman dat I likes to see 'roun. Whar's Miss Marie's eyes when she cahnt see how far s'perior he is to dose Norvern sogers who am jess libin' here now.”
“Yer wouldn't like him so well if yer knew he was a 'sassin, would yer?”
The old negress was all attention. “A 'sassin, what's dat?”
“A wicked man what tries to murder anuder jess becase he lubs de same gal dat he does.”