take on much 'ca'se de mule wuz gone. So dey 'lowed dey marster must 'a'
had his s'picions 'bout dat cunjuh man."

My wife had listened to Julius's recital with only a mild interest. When
the old man had finished it she remarked:--

"That story does not appeal to me, Uncle Julius, and is not up to your
usual mark. It isn't pathetic, it has no moral that I can discover, and
I can't see why you should tell it. In fact, it seems to me like
nonsense."

The old man looked puzzled as well as pained. He had not pleased the
lady, and he did not seem to understand why.

"I'm sorry, ma'm," he said reproachfully, "ef you doan lack dat tale. I
can't make out w'at you means by some er dem wo'ds you uses, but I'm
tellin' nuffin but de truf. Co'se I did n' see de cunjuh man tu'n 'im
back, fer I wuz n' dere; but I be'n hearin' de tale fer twenty-five
yeahs, en I ain' got no 'casion fer ter 'spute it. Dey 's so many things
a body knows is lies, dat dey ain' no use gwine roun' findin' fault wid
tales dat mought des ez well be so ez not. F' instance, dey's a young
nigger gwine ter school in town, en he come out heah de yuther day en
'lowed dat de sun stood still en de yeath turnt roun' eve'y day on a
kinder axletree. I tol' dat young nigger ef he didn' take hisse'f 'way
wid dem lies, I 'd take a buggy-trace ter 'im; fer I sees de yeath
stan'in' still all de time, en I sees de sun gwine roun' it, en ef a man
can't b'lieve w'at 'e sees, I can't see no use in libbin'--mought's well
die en be whar we can't see nuffin. En ernudder thing w'at proves de
tale 'bout dis ole Primus is de way he goes on ef anybody ax' him how he
come by dat club-foot. I axed 'im one day, mighty perlite en civil, en