FOLKS FROM DIXIE
cried, "You sha'n't do it, Mas' Tom,—you sha'n't do it."
His destructive instinct had turned to one of preservation.
"But, Nelse, I have no further hopes," said the dejected man.
"You have, and you shall have. You're goin' back to Kintucky, an' you 're goin' back a gentleman. I kin he'p you, an' I will; you're welcome to the last I have."
"God bless you, Nelse—"
"Mas' Tom, you used to be jes' about my size, but you're slimmer now; but—but I hope you won't be mad ef I ask you to put on a suit o' mine. It's put' nigh brand-new, an'—"
"Nelse, I can't do it! Is this the way you pay me for the blows—"
"Heish your mouth; ef you don't I'll slap you down!" Nelse said it with mock solemnity, but there was an ominous quiver about his lips.
"Come in this room, suh;" and the master obeyed: He came out arrayed in Nelse's best and newest suit. The coloured man went to a drawer, over which he bent laboriously. Then he turned and said: "This 'll pay your passage
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