THE CHRONICLES OF AUNT MINERVY ANN
chile would 'a' made a fine 'oman—none better. 'Long todes de las' she got ter gwine on 'bout Mary Ellen. Look like she could see Mary Ellen in de fever-dreams, an' she'd laugh an' go on des like she useter when she wuz a little bit er gal.
"Wellum, when dat chile died Marse Bolivar come mighty nigh losin' 'is min'. He ain't make no fuss 'bout it, but he des fell back on hisse'f an' walk de flo' night atter night, an' moan an' groan when he think nobody ain't lis'nin'. An' den, atter so long a time, here come a letter fum Mary Ellen, an' dat broke 'im all up. I tell you right now, ma'am, Marse Bolivar had a hard fight wid trouble. I don't keer what folks may say; dey may tell you he's a hard man, ready ter fight an' quick ter kill. He's all dat, an' maybe mo'; but I know what I know.
"Wellum, de days went an' de days come. Bimeby I hear some er de niggers say dat Mary Ellen done come back. I laid off ter go an' see de chile; but one day I wuz gwine 'long de street an' I met a white lady. She say, 'Ain't dat Aunt Minervy Ann?' I 'low, 'Yessum, dis is de remnants.' Wid dat, ma'am, she grab me 'roun' de neck an' hug me, an' bu'st out a-cryin', an' 'twa'n't nobody in de worl' but Mary Ellen.
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