Wait a bit! I ain't through yet." "Go on,"-- quietly enough spoken, but the mouth shook under its silky fringe, and a fiery spot burned on either cheek.
"All right.

Well, sir, I know all about Franklin.

He's a bright one, smart enough to stock a lot of us with brains and have some to spare; he don't interfere with us, and does his work well, too, I reckon,--though that's neither here nor there, nor none of our business if the boss is satisfied; and he looks like a gentleman, and acts like one, there's no denying that! and as for his skin,--well!" a smile breaking over his good-looking face, "his skin's quite as white as mine now, anyway," smearing his red-flannel arm over his grimy phiz; "but then, sir, it won't rub off.

He's a nigger, and there's no getting round it.
"All right, sir! give you your chance directly.

Don't speak yet,--ain't through, if _you_ please.