"W'at you want anyhow, imperdence?"
"I wants sup'n ter eat. Does you 'spects I kin ride all night en all day ter brung you freedom, en den not eben git a good word? You ain' fit fer freedom. I'se tell some nachel-bawn fool ter gib you a yaller rib'on en den dere be two ob you."
"La now, Chunk," she replied, coming back, "ef I wuz lookin' fer a fool I des stay right yere. Ef you git a pa'r ob steps en look in my face you'd see I'se bettah fren' ter you ner you ter me. You stay yere en I brings you w'at you tink a heap on mor'n me," and now she darted away with intentions satisfactory to her strategic admirer.
Chunk grinned and soliloquized, "Reck'n I kin fotch dat gyurl roun' wid all her contrariations. I des likes her skittishness, but I ain' tellin' her so, kaze I gwine ter hab my han's full as 'tis."
Zany soon returned with a plate well heaped, for at this time her argus-eyed mistress was sitting in the parlor, awaiting whatever fate the ruthless Yankees might impose. Chunk sat Turk-fashion on the ground and fell to as if famished, meanwhile listening eagerly to the girl's account of what had happened during his absence.
"Hi!" said Zany disdainfully, "you'd mek lub ter Aun' Suke ef she fed you."
"I kin mek mo'n lub," Chunk answered, nodding at her portentously; "I kin mek mischief."
"Reck'n you do dat anyhow."
"See yere, Zany, does you tink Marse Scoville a fool?"
"Ob co'se not."