"'No,' I said, 'go on,' and he continued: 'I'se tole you most all dat happened after dat till she died an' you comed to de funeral.
"'When ole miss died, I writ to de Colonel, as I tole you, an' he comed, gran', an' proud, an' stiff, an' I tole him all 'bout Miss Dory same as I have you,—p'raps not quite so much,—p'raps mo'. I don't remember, 'case as I said my memory is ole an' leaky, and mebby I ain't tellin' it right in course as I tole him. Some was in de house, an' some out hyar, whar I said, "Dis is her grave. She's lyin' under de san', but I'll fix her up in time an' she shall sleep under de roses."
"'I tole him everything was done in order, an' how you preached about de Resurrection an' de Life, an' how sweet she look in her coffin, an' Mandy Ann's puttin' her ring on de weddin' finger, an' his mouf trembled like, up and down, an' I b'lieve ef thar had been a tear in his dried-up heart he'd of shed it.
"'Oncet, when he seemed kinder softened, I ast him squar," Ain't you her husband?"
"'Thar was such a quar look in his eyes,—a starin' at me a minit,—an' then he said, "I am nobody's husband, an' never shall be."
"'I b'lieve he lied, an' wanted to knock him down, but wouldn't right thar by her grave. He tole me I was to have all the money Miss Dory had been layin' up, an' he would send me mo' for the stun. I ast what I should put on it, an' he said, "What was on her coffin plate?"
"Eudora, aged 20," I tole him. "Put the same on the stun," he said. He tole me I was to stay on de place, an' have all I made. Then thar was Mandy Ann, who 'longed to de lil chile. She was to stay hyar, he said, an' he'd pay her wage which she could keep herself. He'd settle wid de lil chile when de time come, an' set Mandy Ann free. I think he meant it, but he was spar'd de trouble, for de wah corned like a big broom an' swep' slavery away, an' mos' everyting souf wid it, an' Mandy Ann was free any way widout de Colonel.
"'After de chile went away I got to broodin' over Miss Dory's wrongs, till I'se so worked up agin de Colonel, dat when de wah broke out I was minded to 'list, hopin' I'd meet him somewhar in battle an' shoot him. Den I cooled down an' staid home an' raised things an' worked for de poor folks hyar,—de women, whose husban's an' brudders had gone to de wah. Ted,—dat's de boy on de "Hatty" long ago,—went to de wah wid a great flourish, promisin' Mandy Ann he'd shoot the Colonel shu' ef he got a chance. An' what do you think? At de fust crack of de cannon in de fust battle he seen, he cut an' run, an' kep' on runnin' till he got hyar, beggin' me an' Mandy Ann to hide him, 'case he was a deserter. I held my tongue, an' let Mandy Ann do as she pleased, an' she hid him till de Federals come, when he jined them, an' did get hit, but 'twas on de back or shoulder, showin' which way he was runnin'.
"'Den Mandy Ann married him, an' has ten chillenses, an' washes an' scrubs for de Brock House an' everybody, while Ted struts roun' wid a cigar in his mouf, an' says he has neber seen a well day sense de wah,—dat his shoulder pains him powerful at times,—an' he is tryin' to get a pension, an' Mandy Ann is helpin' him. Beats all what women won't do for a man if they love him, no matter how big a skunk he is. Miss Dory died for one, an' Mandy Ann is slavin' herself to deff for one. I'se mighty glad I'se not a woman.'
"Here Jake stopped a moment, presumably to reflect on the waywardness of Miss Dory and Mandy Ann caring for two skunks,—one the Colonel and one Ted, whose last name I did not know till I asked Jake, who replied, 'Hamilton—a right smart name, I'm told, an' 'long'd to de quality. Ole man Hamilton come from de norf somewhar, an' bought Ted's mother, a likely mulatto. Who his fader was I doan know. He's more white dan black, an' is mighty proud of his name,—Hamilton,—'case somebody tole him thar was once a big man, Hamilton, an' when Mandy Ann had twin boys, she was tole to call 'em Alexander an' Aaron,—sumptin',—I doan justly remember what. It makes me think of a chestnut.'