“En wid dat I fetch’ her a slap side de head dat sont her a-sprawlin’. Den I went into de yuther room, en ’uz gone ’bout ten minutes; en when I come back dah was dat do’ a-stannin’ open yit , en dat chile stannin’ mos’ right in it, a-lookin’ down and mournin’, en de tears runnin’ down. My, but I wuz mad! I was a-gwyne for de chile, but jis’ den⁠—it was a do’ dat open innerds⁠—jis’ den, ’long come de wind en slam it to, behine de chile, ker- blam !⁠—en my lan’, de chile never move’! My breff mos’ hop outer me; en I feel so⁠—so⁠—I doan’ know how I feel. I crope out, all a-tremblin’, en crope aroun’ en open de do’ easy en slow, en poke my head in behine de chile, sof’ en still, en all uv a sudden I says pow ! jis’ as loud as I could yell. She never budge!