Well, 'bout dis time, in comes some niggers dat played music and b'long' to de ban', an' dey NEVER could git along widout puttin' on airs.

'An de very fust air dey put on dat night, I lit into em! Dey laughed, an' dat made me wuss.

De res' o' de niggers got to laughin', an' den my soul alive but I was hot! My eye was jist a-blazin'! I jist straightened myself up so--jist as I is now, plum to de ceilin', mos' -- an' I digs my fists into my hips, an' I says, 'Look-a-heah!' I says, 'I want you niggers to understan' dat I wa'n't bawn in de mash to be fool' by trash! I's one o' de ole Blue hen's Chickens, I is!'-- an' den I see dat young man stan' a-starin' an' stiff, lookin' kin' o' up at de ceilin' like he fo'got somefin, an' couldn't 'member it no mo'.

Well, I jist march' on dem niggers--so, lookin' like a gen'l--an' dey jist cave' away befo' me an' out at de do'.

An' as dis young man a-goin' out, I heah him say to another nigger, 'Jim,' he says, 'you go 'long an' tell de cap'n I be on han' 'bout eight o'clock in de mawnin'; dey's somefin on my mine,' he says; 'I don't sleep no mo' dis night.