“Good-mornin’, sister,” he replied, in a sigh, as he passed her into the cottage, “kin I ax yer ter save dese yer boots en blackin’-bresh fer me. It’s all my things I kin git my han’s on now. Ca’line is de beatenes’ woman in dis wull I do know. She’s locked um all up in de wa’drobe en hid de key som’rs. But I gwine back ter night en watch my chances. She ’low she mighty sharp, but you gwine see. You gwine hear supin drap; now min’ whut I seh. She hatter git up ’fo’ day to haid me off. De minute I git my han’s on any er my things I gwine fetch um right ter you, en w’en I got um all frum ’er she kin des go, now you min’ whut I seh. She kin des go ’long en wade en swim tell she tek er tail lak er tadpole fer all I keer. All I want is whut b’longs ter me. I gwine hat um, too, en not many words be passed nurr.”
Discerning Martha began to place a small value on her prospect of gaining her point, but in the sweet delight of being a partner in a family disagreement she did not make her fears known, and pretended to think that he was in the right to a final separation from Caroline.
That day Abraham’s companions wondered at his moods. He was very absent-minded, and seemed extremely nervous and ill at ease. As the hour for dinner arrived he remembered that he would be obliged to go home for a small piece of plug tobacco which he had forgotten.
“My lord, Abrum!” exclaimed a dusky companion in surprise, “whyn’t you step er crost ter de sto’ en buy a piece. It’s er mile, en’ll push you lak smoke ter git back.”
“No use,” said Abraham, taking his luncheon in his hands and eating it as he started off. “No use; I des got ter hat it. It’s my sweet navy, en deh ain’t non er dat kin’ in dat sto’. I cay’nt do er lick dis evenin’ less’n I got it.”
He found it necessary to avoid passing in view of Martha Todd’s house, so his distance was a trifle longer than usual.
He stood in the door in surprise. Caroline and Asphalt were seated at the dining table, and on it for that midday repast was only some bread and water. His heart smote him suddenly as he remembered what a delightful luncheon she had always put up in his pail of mornings. But he must not weaken. He remembered that the desired piece of tobacco was in the pocket of a pair of trousers now locked in the wardrobe. Notwithstanding this knowledge, he went to the mantelpiece, looked in the clock, turned over papers, and ran his hands over the covering of Asphalt’s bed.
Then feeling that some explanation was due Caroline, who was regarding him surreptitiously, he said to Asphalt, whose lack of comprehension was as positive as his blackness:
“Asphy, honey, has you seed yo’ papa’s piece er terbaccer? Seem lak I lef’ it in my blue check pants.”
Caroline, however, as if taking the remark to herself, without deigning to look at him, went to the wardrobe, unlocked it, and threw the pair of trousers referred to on the bed, and placidly resumed her work over the fire-place.