Books [Uncle Andrew]
Mrs. Genevieve W. Chandler
Murrells Inlet, S. C.
“Poor old Uncle! He say last night, 'Oh, looker Lillie, what come to! Jess (just) O looker! I got all 'o you up here waiting on me!' He swoll up, lak (like) a drum, 'Oh, God, have mercy on me! I can't stand it!' (He smile!) 'Oh, how sweet the name of Jesus in true believer years! All us got to get us whipping! Take whipping to bring us to the fold! Lak (like) chillun mudder have to chastise. Do wrongful thing. Master have to chastise to get 'um to the fold!'
“Jess (just) bout four o'clock he say if he can't get ease he can't stand it. Jess can't swell no more. Poor old leg like a tree. Stommick like a bucket. Feet swell till every toe stretch! (But the sick man is thinking about his job which is to sell spring water for the boss man) Uncle say, “Now chillun, carry the funnel! Go on to the spring with them people! Go on give the buckra the spring water. That man carry fourteen gallons? He owe you nother fifty cent. I aint going to do business that-a way! Give me the one dollar! I thank you! Thank you! Got a dollar for the doctor. Give it to him when he come tomorrow!'
“Everything split wide on 'em. Shirt all cut! Every pillow in the house under him. 'Lillie, don't try to lift all by yourself. You handle me so good. Don't hurt me. 'You see, Missus, by his flesh swoll so, it sore. His limb feel hard like a bottle. Never see a sight like that! Aunt Phillipa die with the dropsy, but didn't swell so. Die one