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My exclamation of astonishment manifestly pleased him, and he proceeded with increased gravity and carefulness of dictation:

“You see, suh, ‘twair dis way.” He laid his stick carefully down, and spreading open the yellowish palm of one hand, laid the index finger of the other on it, as if it had been a map. “When I waked up nex’ mornin’ an’ called P’laski, he did not rappear. He had departured; an’ so had my shut! Ef ‘t hadn’ been for de garment, I wouldn’ ‘a’ keered so much, for I knowed I’d git my han’s on him some time: hawgs mos’ly comes up when de acorns all gone! an’ I know hick’ries ain’t gwino stop growin’: but I wuz cawnsiderably tossified decernin’ my garment, an’ I gin Lucindy a little direction ’bout dat. But I jos wont on gittin’ my sumac, an’ whenever I como ‘cross a right straight hick’ry, I geth-orod dat too, an’ laid it by, ‘cus hick’ries grow mighty fine in ole fiel’s whar growin’ up like. An’ one day I wuz down in de bushes, an’ Mr. ‘Lias Lumpkins, de constable, come rid-in’ down dyah whar I wuz, an’ ax me whar P’laski is. Hit come in my mind torectly dat he warn’ P’laski ’bout de ring, an’ I tell him I air not aware whar P’laski is: and den he tell me he got warrant for me, and I mus’ come on wid him. I still reposed, in co’se, ‘twuz ’bout de ring, an’ I say I ain’ had nuttin’ to do wid it. An’ he say, ‘Wid what?’ An’ I say, ‘Wid de ring.’ Den he say, ‘Oh!’ an’ he say, ”Tain’ nuttin’ ’bout de ring; ’tis for murder.’ Well, I know I ain’ murder nobody, an’ I ax him who dee say I done murder; an’ he ax me agin, ‘Whar air P’laski?’ I tell him I don’ know whar P’laski air: I know I ain’ murder him! Well, suh, hit subsequently repeared dat dis wuz de wuss thing I could ‘a’ said, ‘cus when de trial come on, Major Torm Woods made mo’ o’ dat ‘n anything else at all; an’ hit ‘pears like ef you’s skused o’ murder er steal-in’, you mus’n’ say you ain’ do it, ‘cuz dat’s dangersomer ‘n allowing you is do it.

“Well, I went ‘long wid him. I ax him to le’ me go by my house; but he say, nor, he ‘ain’ got time, dat he done been dyah. An’ he teck me ‘long to de cote-house, an’ lock me up in de jail! an’ lef’ me dyah in de dark on de rock flo’! An’ dyah I rejourned all night long. An’ I might ‘a’ been dyah now, ef ‘t hadn’ been dat de co’te come on. Nex’ mornin’ Mr. Landy Wilde come in dyah an’ ax me how I gettin’ on, an’ ef I warn’ anything. I tell him I gettin’ on toler’ble, an’ I ain’ warn’ nuttin’ but a little tobacco. I warn’ git out, but I knew I cyarn do dat, ‘cuz ‘twuz de ambitiouses smellin’ place I ever smelt in my life. I tell you, suh, I is done smell all de smells o’ mink an’ mus’ an’ puffume, but I ain’ nuver smell nuttin’ like dat jail. Mr. Landy Wilde had to hole he nose while he in dyah; an’ he say he’ll git de ole jedge to come an’ ac’ as my council. I tell him, ‘Nor; Gord put me in dyah, an’ I reckon He’ll git me out when He ready.’ I tell you, suh, I wair p’intedly ashamed for de ole jedge, whar wuz a gent’man, to come in sich a scand’lous smellin’ place as dat. But de ole jedge come; an’ he say it wuz a —— shame to put a humin in sich place, an’ he’d git me bail; which I mus’ say–even ef he is a church member–might be ixcused ef you jes consider dat smell. But when de cote meet, dee wouldn’ gi’ me no bail, ‘cuz dee say I done commit murder; an’ I heah Jim Sinkfiel’ an’ Mr. Lumpkins an’ ole Mis’ Twine went in an’ tole de gran’ jury I sutney had murder P’laski, an’ bury him down in de sumac bushes; an’ dee had de gre’t bundle o’ switches dee fine in my house, an’ dee redite me, an’ say ef I ‘ain’ murder him, why’n’t I go ‘long an’ pre-duce him. Dat’s a curisome thing, suh; dee tell you to go ‘long and fine anybody, an’ den lock you up in jail a insec’ couldn’ get out.”