"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is almos' all done gone to Richmon' er summers[1] en' I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do fer sum'hm to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer 'bacco nudda."
[1] Somewhere [Ed.].
"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect you to find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for it."
We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.
"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it as I can get without being seen."
"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.
"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the breastworks. First, I want to go to Young's Mill."
"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."
"Two?"
"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de yudda one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."