seventy-seven       

            Gots back my ruby necklace what Mojo gimme. Somehow Massah has it. Knowed straight off dat Mojo mus' a mean' it fo' a sign—else why ask Mas... ask Zach'ry pass it 'long. Gots prac'ice callin' "Massah Zach'ry" Zach'ry—'cep' when fo'ks come 'roun'—what confusin' seein' 's how Zach'ry sometime frown hear his Chris'an name spoke by a colourt. Him change a pow'ful lot, but him still contrary.

            Still han'some, too. Near took away my breaf seein' him outsi'e dat chapel, tall an' ser'ous an' strong an' lookin' dat look him look—dough Zach'ry haven' touch me; not once; not one tiny squeeze.

            An' de hones' truef 'bout dat is, Jewel don' mine. Mayhap it de sucker block my cravin', o' mayhap it de bad time (won' nevah tell 'bout de bad time wiff dem traders). Whatev' de cause might be, I not much in'er'sted. So when Zach'ry slep' at de inn las' night what don' 'low niggers no how, Jewel relieve'. Likes it better in de buckboar' by myse'f. Gots aw dese blankets wrap 'roun' my body wa'm an' nice... stars ov'head... air so cool an' clean de bugs too chill' to bite... whippo'will fo' a lull'by... life so sweet it hum.