“Yes, 'm; dis one was Sairey.” We just caught the past tense.
“You get them so quickly, you see, you can't expect one to remember them,” said Mrs. Meriwether, frigidly. She meant to impress Jabez; but Jabez remained serene.
“Yes, 'm; dat 's so,” said he, cheerfully. “I kin hardly remember 'em myself.”
“No, I suppose not.” His mistress grew severe. “Well, how 's Sarah?”
“Well, m'm, I could n' exactly say—Sairey she 's done lef me—yes, 'm.” He looked so cheerful that his mistress said with asperity:
“Left you! She has run off, too! You must have treated her badly?”
“No, 'm. I did n'. I never had a wife I treated better. I let her had all she could eat; an' when she was sick——”
“I heard she was sick. I heard you sent for the doctor.”
“Yes, 'm; dat I did—dat 's what I was gwine to tell you. I had a doctor to see her twice. I had two separate and indifferent physicians: fust Dr. Overall, an' den Marse Douglas. I could n' do no mo' 'n dat, now, could I?”
“Well, I don't know,” observed Mrs. Meriwether. “My son told me a week ago that she was sick. Did she get well?”