Yas'm, she do dat an' Ah lak ter drap in mah tracks w'en she do it.
De Cunnel, he tell her ter call me
'Sam' an' den she do it.
But all dem Yankee folks, fust time dey meet me, dey call me 'Mist' O'Hara.'
An' dey ast me ter set down wid dem, lak Ah wuz jes' as good as dey wuz.
Well, Ah ain' nebber set down wid w'ite folks an' Ah is too ole ter learn.
Dey treat me lak Ah jes' as good as dey wuz, Miss Scarlett, but in dere hearts, dey din' lak me--dey din' lak no niggers.
An' dey wuz sceered of me, kase Ah's so big.
An' dey wuz allus astin' me 'bout de blood houn's dat chase me an' de beatin's Ah got.
An', Lawd, Miss Scarlett, Ah ain' nebber got no beatin's!
You know Mist' Gerald ain' gwine let nobody beat a 'spensive nigger lak me!
"W'en Ah tell dem dat an' tell dem how good Miss Ellen ter de niggers, an' how she set up a whole week wid me w'en Ah had de pneumony, dey doan b'lieve me.
An', Miss Scarlett, Ah got ter honin' fer Miss Ellen an' Tara, tell it look lak Ah kain stan' it no longer, an' one night Ah lit out fer home, an' Ah rid de freight cabs all de way down ter 'Lanta.
Ef you buy me a ticket ter Tara, Ah sho be glad ter git home.
Ah sho be glad ter see Miss Ellen and Mist' Gerald agin.
An done had nuff freedom.
Ah wants somebody ter feed me good vittles reg'lar, and tell me whut ter do an' whut not ter do, an' look affer me w'en Ah gits sick.
S'pose Ah gits de pneumony agin?
Is dat Yankee lady gwine tek keer of me?
No, Ma'm! She gwine call me
'Mist' O'Hara' but she ain' gwine nuss me.
But Miss Ellen, she gwine nuss me, do Ah git sick an'--whut's de mattuh, Miss Scarlett?"
"Pa and Mother are both dead, Sam."
"Daid?
Is you funnin' wid me, Miss Scarlett?
Dat ain' no way ter treat me!"
"I'm not funning.
It's true.
Mother died when Sherman men came through Tara and Pa--he went last June.
Oh, Sam, don't cry.
Please don't!
If you do, I'll cry too.
Sam, don't!
I just can't stand it.
Let's don't talk about it now.
I'll tell you all about it some other time. . . . Miss Suellen is at Tara and she's married to a mighty fine man, Mr. Will Benteen.
And Miss Carreen, she's in a--" Scarlett paused.
She could never make plain to the weeping giant what a convent was.
"She's living in Charleston now.
But Pork and Prissy are at Tara. . . . There, Sam, wipe your nose.
Do you really want to go home?"
"Yas'm but it ain' gwine be lak Ah thought wid Miss Ellen an'--"
"Sam, how'd you like to stay here in Atlanta and work for me?
I need a driver and I need one bad with so many mean folks around these days."
"Yas'm. You sho do.
Ah been aimin' ter say you ain' got no bizness drivin' 'round by yo'seff, Miss Scarlett.
You ain' got no notion how mean some niggers is dese days, specially dem whut live hyah in Shantytown.
It ain' safe fer you.
Ah ain' been in Shantytown but two days, but Ah hear dem talk 'bout you.
An' yesterday w'en you druv by an' dem trashy black wenches holler at you, Ah recernize you but you went by so fas' Ah couldn' ketch you.