“Fifty-free! I jess dun gwinter bleeve hit; fifty-free, fifty-foah, fifty-five, fifty-six,—I want you to pay ’tenshun when I count de eggs, so dar’ll be no mistake,—fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-free, sixty-foah.—Whew! Dat am a warm day. Dis am de time ob year when I feels I’se gettin’ ole myself. I ain’t long for dis world. You comes from an ole family. When yore fodder died he was sebenty years ole.”
“Seventy-two.”
“Dat’s old, suah.—Sebenty-two, sebenty-free, sebenty-foah, sebenty-five, sebenty-six, sebenty-seben, sebenty-eight, sebenty-eight, sebenty-nine.—And your mudder? She was one ob de noblest lookin’ ladies I ebber see. You remind me ob her so much! She libed to mos’ a hundred. I bleeves she was done past a centurion when she died.”
“No, Uncle Moses: she was only ninety-six when she died.”
“Den she wan’t no chicken when she died, I know dat.—Ninety-six, ninety-seben, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred, one, two, free, foah, five, five, six, seben, eight,—dar one hundred and eight nice fresh eggs,—jess nine dozen, and here am one moah egg in case I have discounted myse’f.”
Old Mose went on his way rejoicing. A few days afterward Mrs. Barton said to her husband,
“I am afraid we will have to discharge Matilda. I am satisfied that she steals the milk and eggs. I am positive about the eggs, for I bought them day before yesterday, and now about half of them are gone. I stood right there, and heard old Moses count them myself, and there were nine dozen.”
—Texas Siftings.