"Dey say 'tis a wise child dat know his own fader," answered Primus.
"Now, if a child dat see his fader ebery day, and been brung up in
de same house, not know him, how is it possible dat I know you, Missa
Basset, who neber before do me de honor ob a visit?"
"Why," said the constable, who hardly knew what reply to make, "you never come to see me, Prime."
"Dat is de trute," said Primus, "and dat look as do you and me is no great friends, arter all. But," added he, observing the other's embarrassment, "dat is needer here nor dere. I always suspect you bery much, sar, and is willing to do anything to obleege you. Tell us, now, 'xactly, what you want me to do."
"Why, you see, I want somebody to go along with me to be there when I take him, that's all. The island's three or four miles off, and I shall want you to help row the boat."
"O, if dat is all, I is 'greeable," exclaimed Primus. "When you tink of going, Missa Basset?"
"I ain't just made up my mind on that pint, and that's one thing I want to talk about. When will he be most likely to be at home? What do you think? Had we better go in the morning, or wait till afternoon."
"Dat inquire some deflexum. Let me see: I don't know about de day, at all. If he see you coming, he make off, probumbly, and den de job is lost, and de fire is in de fat. De night is de best time, I guess, to ketch dis kind ob fish."
But this opinion did not suit the notions of the constable.
"It won't be half so pleasant," he said. "It's plaguy cold at night; and if it keeps on at this rate, the river will soon freeze up. I expect we can git him easier, too, in the day-time than at night."
For some reason Primus seemed to entertain a decidedly contrary opinion.