"But yo' doan' fool dis nigger as easy as yo' maybe think.

Ah know what yo' watchin' me fo', and Ah done know I'se been doin' jess w'at yo' think.

So I guess we doan' need no mo' conversationin', unless yo' willing to talk right out and tell me w'at's w'at." "Sambo," said Reade solemnly, "I imagine I'm not very intelligent, after all.

I listened to you attentively, but, for the life of me, I couldn't make out what you were talking about." "Kain't yo' ?" the negro demanded, mockingly.

"Den Ah done reckon Ah must be a good deal of a scholar, ef Ah can talk so dat er w'ite quality gemmen kain't undahstan' me." Mr.Sambo Ebony chuckled gleefully in appreciation of his own joke.
"There's one thing I guess you can tell me, Sambo," Reade suggested hopefully.
"W'at am dat, massa ?" "When are you going to change your seat and stop making me feel like a very thin pancake ?" "W'en Ah done get mah mind made up." "When you have your mind made up about---what ?" "About w'at I'se gwine do wid yo', Massa Reade." "Well, what do you think you're going to do with me ?" insisted Tom.