FOLKS FROM DIXIE
beat biscuits, an Lize done fried you a young chicken dat 'll sholy mek yo' mouf worter."
"Thank you, Ike, thank you," was the dignified response. "Lize is a likely girl, and she's improving in her cooking greatly."
"Yes, Mas' Estridge, she sho is a mighty fine ooman."
"And you're not a bad servant yourself, Ike," the old man went on, with an air of youthful playfulness that ill accorded with his aged face. "I expect some day you'll be coming around asking me to let you marry Lize, eh! What have you got to say to that?"
"I reckon dat's right, mastah, I reckon dat 's mighty nigh right."
"Well, we shall see about it when the time comes; we shall see about it."
"Lawd, how long!" mumbled the old servant to himself as he went on about his work. "Ain't Mas' Bob nevah gwine to git his almanec straight? He been gwine on dis way fu' ovah twenty yeahs now. He cain't git it thoo' his haid dat time been a-passin'. Hyeah I done been ma'ied to Lize fu' lo dese many yeahs, an' we've got ma'ied chillum, but he still think I 's a-cou'tin' huh."
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