§ 81 From the Book of Moses
Mose Morris used to live near Frankfort, Ky. He was a small, meek person of color who cultivated a truck patch for a living, and was generally liked by the white population. He remained a bachelor until he was nearing middle age.
Then, in an unthoughted hour, he suffered himself to be shackled in the holy bonds of wedlock with a large, truculent, overbearing black woman nearly twice his size. He led his bride away to his little house seven miles from town.
Within two weeks’ time he came driving into Frankfort in a two-mule wagon, which was piled high with household effects. As he crossed the bridge over the Kentucky River a white gentleman hailed him.
“Why, hello, Mose! Where are you going with all that plunder?”
“I’se movin’, Mist’ Bob,” answered Mose.
“Movin’ where?”
“Movin’ into town—done rented a lil’ house down back behint de L. and N. depot.”
“Why, I thought you liked the country?” said the white man.
“I used to lak it,” said Mose. “I used to lak it powerful. But my wife she don’t lak the country. An’ yere lately I’ve tuck notice, Mist’ Bob, dat w’en my wife don’t lak a thing I jest natchelly hates it.”