“Well, I’s gwine to tell you, if you gimme a chanst, mammy. De reason it ain’t enough is ’ca’se Marse Tom gambles.”
Roxy threw up her hands in astonishment and Chambers went on—
“Ole marster found it out, ’ca’se he had to pay two hundred dollahs for Marse Tom’s gamblin’ debts, en dat’s true, mammy, jes as dead certain as you’s bawn.”
“Two—hund’d—dollahs! Why, what is you talkin’ ’bout? Two—hund’d—dollahs. Sakes alive, it’s ’mos’ enough to buy a tol’able good second-hand nigger wid. En you ain’t lyin’, honey?—you wouldn’t lie to yo’ ole mammy?”
“It’s God’s own truth, jes as I tell you—two hund’d dollahs—I wisht I may never stir outen my tracks if it ain’t so. En, oh, my lan’, ole Marse was jes a-hoppin’! he was b’ilin’ mad, I tell you! He tuck ’n’ dissenhurrit him.”
He licked his chops with relish after that stately word. Roxy struggled with it a moment, then gave it up and said—
“Dissenhurrit him.”
“What’s dat? What do it mean?”
“Means he bu’sted de will.”