Social Life in Old New Orleans; Being Recollections of My Girlhood Buy on Amazon
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Social Life in Old New Orleans; Being Recollections of My Girlhood

Author Eliza Ripley
Publisher TheClassics.us
11.70 USD

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Book Details
Author(s) Eliza Ripley
Publisher TheClassics.us
ISBN / ASIN 1230348506
ISBN-13 9781230348506
Availability Usually ships in 24 hours
Sales Rank #99,999,999
Marketplace United States 🇺🇸
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Description
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1912 edition. Excerpt: ... XXIX MARY ANN AND MARTHA ANN THE story of Mary Ann and Martha Ann and the red bonnet has been so often retold to my children and grandchildren that every detail has been retained, and in its completeness as I give it here, it is a bit of authentic family history "dressed up" as its hearers love it. "What kin we do, Ma'y Ann? I dun hear Miss Liza talkin' 'bout it agin, and 'lowin' it got to be found." The two little negroes sat under a widespreading pecan tree that scattered its shade and its late autumn nuts over the grassy lawn of a spacious Southern mansion. They crouched closely together, heads touching, voices whispering and faces turned to the river road, their scanty linsey skirts drawn tightly over little black legs, so that no searching eye from the broad veranda could spy them. Mary Ann looked anxiously around, and, drawing her knotty, kinky head closer still to Martha's softer locks, whispered: "Marm Charlotte gwine to clean out de L, and you know she'll go in dat room fust thing." Marthy sprang back with dilated eyes. "Ma'y Ann, it carnt stay dar; it's gotten to cum outen dar, oh Lordy! What did you put it dar in the fust place fur?" "I didn't put it dar." Ma'y Ann's eyes flashed. "You fotch it dar your own self, unner your apern; you sed it was yourn and Miss Ellen giv it to you." Marthy sprang to her feet. "Miss Ellen never giv me nothin' in her whole life." She shook her clenched fist in Ma'y Ann's face, then burst into tears. The stolen conference, like many another that had preceded it, was opened in a spirit of mutual conciliation, but as the interview progressed and interest waxed, the poor little negroes became fierce in their alarm, fast losing sight of the turpitude of the deed committed in common in the...
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