Genieve wuz a settin’ in the next room holdin’ Boy in her arms—he wuzn’t over and above well that day (cuttin’ teeth). And I looked out and smiled at ’em both; I then went to knittin’.
If I should be obleeged to kiss the Bible and tell jest what I thought about Col. Seybert, I should say that I didn’t like his looks a mite, not a mite.
He looked bold, and brassy, and self-assertive, and dissipated—he looked right down mean. And I should have said so if I hadn’t never hearn a word about his treatment of Victor, or his deviltry about Hester, or anything.
You know in some foreign countries the officers have to give you a passport to pass through the country. And when you are a travellin’ you have to show your papers, and show up who you be and what you be.
Wall, I spoze that custom is follered from one of Nater’s. She always fills out her papers and signs ’em with her own hand, so that folks that watch can tell travellers a passin’ through this world.
Nater had signed Col. Seybert’s passport, had writ it down in the gross, sensual, yet sneerin’ lips, in the cold, cruel look in his eyes, in his loud, boastin’, aggressive manner.
Yet he wuz a neighbor, and I felt that we must neighbor with him.
After I come into the room, he begun, I spoze out of politeness, to sort o’ address himself to me in his remarks. And he seemed to be a resoomin’ the conversation my comin’ in had interrupted.
And anon, he begun to went on about the colored people perfectly shameful.
And as my mind roamed back and recalled the various things I had heard of his doin’, I most imegiatly made up my mind that, neighbor or not, if this thing kep’ on I should have to gin him a piece of my mind.