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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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“O Lord! I wish’t I’s dead!” “Why do you wish you were dead?” said Miss Ophelia. “I’d be out o’ my misery,” said the woman, gruffly, without taking her eyes from the floor. “What need you getting drunk, then, and cutting up, Prue?” said a spruce quadroon, chambermaid, dangling, as she spoke, a pair of coral ear-drops. The woman looked at her with a sour, surly glance. “Maybe you’ll come to it, one of these yer days. I’d be glad to see you, I would; then you’ll be glad of a drop, like me, to forget your misery.” “Come, Prue,” said Dinah, “let’s look at your rusks. Here’s Missis will pay for them.” Miss Ophelia took out a couple of dozen. “Thar’s some tickets in that ar old cracked jug on the top shelf,” said Dinah. “You, Jake, climb up and get it down.” “Tickets,- what are they for?” said Miss Ophelia. “We buys tickets of her Mas’r, and she gives us bread for ‘em.” “And they counts my money and tickets, when I gets home, to see if I’s got the change; and if I han’t, they half kills me.” “And serves you right,” said Jane, the pert chambermaid, “if you will take their money to get drunk on. That’s what she does, Missis.” |
