I warn't
ever so down on a corpse before.
CHAPTER VIII.
TALKING WITH THE GHOST
IT warn't very cheerful at breakfast. Aunt Sally she
looked old and tired and let the children snarl and
fuss at one another and didn't seem to notice it was
going on, which wasn't her usual style; me and Tom
had a plenty to think about without talking; Benny she
looked like she hadn't had much sleep, and whenever
she'd lift her head a little and steal a look towards her
father you could see there was tears in her eyes; and
as for the old man, his things stayed on his plate and
got cold without him knowing they was there, I reckon,
for he was thinking and thinking all the time, and never
said a word and never et a bite.
By and by when it was stillest, that nigger's head
was poked in at the door again, and he said his Marse
Brace was getting powerful uneasy about Marse Jubiter,
which hadn't come home yet, and would Marse Silas
please --
He was looking at Uncle Silas, and he stopped there,
like the rest of his words was froze; for Uncle Silas he
rose up shaky and steadied himself leaning his fingers
on the table, and he was panting, and his eyes was set
on the nigger, and he kept swallowing, and put his
other hand up to his throat a couple of times, and at
last he got his words started, and says:
"Does he -- does he -- think -- WHAT does he think!
Tell him -- tell him --" Then he sunk down in his
chair limp and weak, and says, so as you could hardly
hear him: "Go away -- go away!"
The nigger looked scared and cleared out, and we
all felt -- well, I don't know how we felt, but it was
awful, with the old man panting there, and his eyes set
and looking like a person that was dying.
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