The least of her fictions was this:
"Chillun, I was fust kilt dead, den buried alibe, and kept so till wanted; den fotch to life ag'in, and sold to pirates, and took off to de Stingy Isles, and sold ag'in into slabery; arter which Marster Ishmael Worf drapped right down out'n de clear sky inter de middle ob de street, and if you don't beliebe it jes go ax Marse Ishmael hisse'f, as nebber told a falsehood in his life."
"And so he brought you away, Katie?" inquired Reuben's Sam, who was, of course, present.
"Well, I jes reckon he did some! He made dem Stingy Island barbariums stan' roun' now, I tell you, chillun."
Katie went on with her lecture. Her version of the fate of Lord
Vincent, Mrs. Dugald, and Frisbie was rather a free one.
"I walked myse'f right 'traight up to de Queen soon as ebber I totched English ground, and told her all about dem gran' willians, and de Queen ordered de execution ob de whole lot. Which dey was all hung up by de neck till dey was dead de berry next mornin'," she said.
"What, all hung so quick, Katie!" exclaimed Sam, in astonishment.
"All hung; ebery single one ob dem. My lordship and de ehamwally and de whited saltpeter. All hung up by de neck till dey was dead, in de middle ob de street, right in de sight ob ebberybody going along, and serbe 'em right and hopes it did 'em good," said Katie emphatically.
"That was quick work, though," said Sam dubiously.
"Quick work? Dey deserbed it quick, and quicker dan dat. Hi, boy, what you talkin' 'bout? Didn't dey kill me dead, and bury me alibe, amd sell me inter slabery? You'spect how de Queen gwine let sich going on go on while she's de mis'tess ob England? No,'deed; not arter she see all dey made me suffer," exploded Katie.