"Quite well, I thank you, Clarissa, my sleep was ever so refreshing," replied Alice smilingly.
"What does yer fink dem pizened yung warmints dud and dun yestiddy? Yu knowed ole Bob Sal, dat ar ole fafeful mousin cat of ourn? Whar yer fink I foun dat po ole cat, missis?"
"I am sure I do not know, Clarissa, I hope the negroes have not hurt him," answered Alice.
"Deed they has too! Drowned to def in de hogshead, wid a brick tied erround him. Dey is de outdaciousest yunguns I ebber seed in my born days. Dere haint no telling what dey has dun und gon und dun to dis heer plantashun, dat dey aint!"
"I am sorry," exclaimed Alice, "Is the cat quite dead, Clarissa?" she asked.
"Ded!" exclaimed Clarissa, "Sakes alive, ef yer wus to see him yer wud fink dat he had been ded all his life, dat yer wud. Has yer seen ole Jube?" Clarissa continued.
"Yes, he is in the verandah," Alice replied.
"Ugh, Ugh! Glad ob dat. Fust fing Jube knows he'll be hobblin er round on two legs ef he aint kilt rite ded. De outdacious niggers! I wushes dey wus run outen de lan."
Clarissa heard ole Jube bark, and looking out of the kitchen window she saw the regulator shuffling along in his slip-shod way with an old haversack slung over his shoulder coming toward the front verandah and observed with some perturbation.