The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-06-23
AUNT CASTERS LETTER.

 Dey tells me dat you is writer fur de cup en de blue ribbin, en dat you kin come booty nigh writin' letter dat kyars infumashun jis' de same's ef yo' own farder, Mars Jeems, had CT writ it."
 "Yes, Aunt Easter, can write pretty we'll"
 "Den you is my pussimon. wants to ax you to scribe CT 'pistle to my son Jonas, de youngis' outen de six, an' de same one ez wuz sole down de rivah in sixty, jis' 'fo' de waugh. I alters wnz sorter sot back bout um sellin' Jonas down de rivah, dough I know'd dat Jonas was a mighty brig goty niggah, en he kep' heap too much of a-foolin' 'roun' Mars John Petahses fat sheep in summah and his smoke-ho an chicken rooses in de wintah, en yuther times. Still en all Jonas had CT wife, Hammer Jane, dat wuz owdashous, an monst'ous favo'ble to spring chickens, good ole sweet ham, en fat mutton in dere season, en Jonas wuz pow'ful give to'rds s'plyin' his family, en wuz good pervider, lettin' Tone an not countin' de fack dat ole marster spilled evah niggah on de place wid plenty to eat en war, and de kivah of ruff putty nigh ez good ez hit wuz at de big house, en a mon- st'ous sight better'n any on us is seed sense. You done heerd me shout my sesso. Dat Hammer Jane wusn't nuthin' mo- ner less den de ru'nation CT dat boy Jonas, wid her constant sweet toof en hankerin' fur de flesh-pots.
 "But, yit en all, ez I wuz sayin', I hated to see dat niggah gwine down de rivah, whar dey done tole me dat dey stud niggahs up in a row, en jis' grease dar froats wid piece CT fat meat wid string to hit. 'Clar' to goodness, hit do pear like to me efdat WIZ de kline CT dinner gwine to git -'fo' de waugh CT sense-I doan keer ef de hawn doan blow moan twict f'um Chris'mus to Chris'mus."
 "Well, that's all right, Aunt Easter, When do you want me to write that letter? Life's too short to wait for the family history on both sides. Whats more, the circus will be here tomorrow, and Pve got to have mammals keys to the smoke-house early this evening""
 "What you want wid dem keys, little Mars Gawge?"
 "Haven't l got to sell middling on the sly, to Jess Clawson, to raise extras for the circus?"
 "O-oo! You beats my time. You's monst'ous cute. I sawtah think you tek alter my son Jonas, but dis var didn' run in de blood on bofe sides CT de house, white en black. Nevah mine, howsumdevah. Lemme lone fur gittin' de keys en de middlin' bofe, but you ought be spanked right good, dis minnit, fur dis. Teckin' middlin's of meat right fum y0 blessed farder's and mudder's smoke house fur to buy circus money wid. Now, ef you wuz gwine to gin it to de church."
 Well, I s'pose you don't want that letter written2"
 "'Deed I does, honey. Dosn you be Harmed. Tse gwineter fine de mid- dlin'.n
 "All right, Aunt Easter, the letter goes. Now, what do you want me to write to Jonas?"
 Now, den, Mars Gawge, I'se got haf CT dollab, en A quartah, en two ten centses, en . fo' pence, en . cut nine-pence; how much money is I gots"
 "That's about two dollars and ten cents. That's . good deal. Where did you get it, Aunt Easter?"
 HB'iled soap and sole it.n
 "What arc you going to do with it?"
 "I'se gwine to vide it up 'twix Jonas en de chillun an' Hammer Jane. En now, den, go on writin' de letter."