Читать книгу Prince Dusty. A Story of the Oil Regions онлайн

46 страница из 57

“Oh, Uncle Phin, I’ve tried as hard as I can to be good, and make them all love me here, but they won’t do it. No matter what I do, it seems to be the wrong thing, and I only get punished for it. I am getting almost afraid to try and do right any more, and if we stay here much longer I’m pretty sure I shall grow to be a bad boy, such as my own dear mamma and papa wouldn’t love. Now don’t you think we might run away and live somewhere else, where it would be more easy to be good than it is here? Do you think it would be very wrong if we did? I’m sure Aunt Nancy would be glad to have us go, and perhaps Uncle John would too.”

“Why, Honeybug!” cried the old man delightedly, “dat ar is prezactly what yo ole Unc Phin’s been projeckin to hissef—only you mus’n’t call it runnin away, like you was a pore niggah. A Dale don’t nebber run away. He only change de spere ob his libbin, when he gits tired ob one place, an’ takes up wif anudder, same like we’s a gwine ter. I’s been considerin fer a long while back dat dese yere Dustins, who isn’t much better ’n pore white trash no how, wasn’t de bestest company fer a thorobred Dale like you is.”