The Conjure Woman by Charles W. Chesnutt (7 ebook reader .TXT) 📕
- Author: Charles W. Chesnutt
Book online «The Conjure Woman by Charles W. Chesnutt (7 ebook reader .TXT) 📕». Author Charles W. Chesnutt
“Mars’ Dugal’ wuz monst’us mad. He didn’ let on at fus’ lack he b’liebed Chloe, but w’en she tuk en showed ’im whar ter fin’ de baby doll, Mars’ Dugal’ tu’nt w’ite ez chalk.
“ ‘Wat debil’s wuk is dis?’ sezee. ‘No wonder de po’ nigger’s feet eetched. Sump’n got ter be done ter l’arn dat ole witch ter keep her han’s off’n my niggers. En ez fer dis yer Jeff, I’m gwine ter do des w’at I promus’, so de darkies on dis plantation’ll know I means w’at I sez.’
“Fer Mars’ Dugal’ had warned de han’s befo’ ’bout foolin’ wid cunju’ation; fac’, he had los’ one er two niggers hisse’f fum dey bein’ goophered, en he would ’a’ had ole Aun’ Peggy whip’ long ago, on’y Aun’ Peggy wuz a free ’oman, en he wuz ’feard she’d cunjuh him. En w’iles Mars’ Dugal’ say he didn’ b’liebe in cunj’in’ en sich, he ’peared ter ’low it wuz bes’ ter be on de safe side, en let Aun’ Peggy alone.
“So Mars’ Dugal’ done des ez he say. Ef ole mis’ had ple’d fer Jeff, he mought ’a’ kep’ ’im. But ole mis’ hadn’ got ober losin’ dem bulbs yit, en she neber said a wo’d. Mars’ Dugal’ tuk Jeff ter town nex’ day en’ sol’ ’im ter a spekilater, who sta’ted down de ribber wid ’im nex’ mawnin’ on a steamboat, fer ter take ’im ter Alabama.
“Now, w’en Chloe tol’ ole Mars’ Dugal’ ’bout dis yer baby doll en dis udder goopher, she hadn’ ha’dly ’lowed Mars’ Dugal’ would sell Jeff down Souf. Howsomeber, she wuz so mad wid Jeff dat she ’suaded herse’f she didn’ keer; en so she hilt her head up en went roun’ lookin’ lack she wuz rale glad ’bout it. But one day she wuz walkin’ down de road, w’en who sh’d come ’long but dis yer Hannibal.
“W’en Hannibal seed ’er, he bus’ out laffin’ fittin’ fer ter kill: ‘Yah, yah, yah! ho, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha! Oh, hol’ me, honey, hol’ me, er I’ll laf myse’f ter def. I ain’ nebber laf’ so much sence I be’n bawn.’
“ ‘Wat you laffin’ at, Hot-Foot?’
“ ‘Yah, yah, yah! Wat I laffin’ at? W’y, I’s laffin’ at myse’f, tooby sho’—laffin’ ter think w’at a fine ’oman I made.’
“Chloe tu’nt pale, en her hea’t come up in her mouf.
“ ‘Wat you mean, nigger?’ sez she, ketchin’ holt er a bush by de road fer ter stiddy herse’f. ‘Wat you mean by de kin’ er ’oman you made?’
“ ‘Wat do I mean? I means dat I got squared up wid you fer treatin’ me de way you done, en I got eben wid dat yaller nigger Jeff fer cuttin’ me out. Now, he’s gwine ter know w’at it is ter eat co’n bread en merlasses once mo’, en wuk fum daylight ter da’k, en ter hab a oberseah dribin’ ’im fum one day’s een’ ter de udder. I means dat I sont wo’d ter Jeff dat Sunday dat you wuz gwine ter be ober ter Mars’ Marrabo’s visitin’ dat ebenin’, en you want ’im ter meet you down by de crick on de way home en go de rest er de road wid you. En den I put on a frock en a sunbonnet, en fix’ myse’f up ter look lack a ’oman; en w’en Jeff seed me comin’, he run ter meet me, en you seed ’im—fer I’d be’n watchin’ in de bushes befo’ en ’skivered you comin’ down de road. En now I reckon you en Jeff bofe knows w’at it means ter mess wid a nigger lack me.’
“Po’ Chloe hadn’ heared mo’ d’n half er de las’ part er w’at Hannibal said, but she had heared ’nuff to l’arn dat dis nigger had fooled her en Jeff, en dat po’ Jeff hadn’ done nuffin, en dat fer lovin’ her too much en goin’ ter meet her she had cause’ ’im ter be sol’ erway whar she’d neber, neber see ’im no mo’. De sun mought shine by day, de moon by night, de flowers mought bloom, en de mawkin’-birds mought sing, but po’ Jeff wuz done los’ ter her fereber en fereber.
“Hannibal hadn’ mo’ d’n finish’ w’at he had ter say, w’en Chloe’s knees gun ’way unner her, en she fell down in de road, en lay dere half a’ hour er so befo’ she come to. W’en she did, she crep’ up ter de house des ez pale ez a ghos’. En fer a mont’ er so she crawled roun’ de house, en ’peared ter be so po’ly dat Mars’ Dugal’ sont fer a doctor; en de doctor kep’ on axin’ her questions ’tel he foun’ she wuz des pinin’ erway fer Jeff.
“W’en he tol’ Mars’ Dugal’, Mars’ Dugal’ lafft, en said he’d fix dat. She could hab de noo house boy fer a husban’. But ole mis’ say, no, Chloe ain’ dat kin’er gal, en dat Mars’ Dugal’ sh’d buy Jeff back.
“So Mars’ Dugal’ writ a letter ter dis yer spekilater down ter Wim’l’ton, en tol’ ef he ain’ done sol’ dat nigger Souf w’at he bought fum ’im, he’d lack ter buy ’im back ag’in. Chloe ’mence’ ter pick up a little w’en ole mis’ tol’ her ’bout dis letter. Howsomeber, bimeby Mars’ Dugal’ got a’ answer fum de spekilater, who said he wuz monst’us sorry, but Jeff had fell ove’boa’d er jumped off’n de steamboat on de way ter Wim’l’ton, en got drownded, en co’se he couldn’ sell ’im back, much ez he’d lack ter ’bleedge Mars’ Dugal’.
“Well, atter Chloe heared dis, she wa’n’t much mo’ use ter nobody. She pu’tended ter do her wuk, en ole mis’ put
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