Won'ers iffen it show? Massah Zach'ry visit late las' night, up my room. Scairt? I like to die, I so plum scairt! Thought him mayhap drunk, but dis time smellt no liquor. Thought him fixin' ta pick my lock but 'stead him ack real strange, smoochin' me an' suchlike down b'twixt my legswhat make me feel kine fidgety. Him don' use no fo'ce, but how 'm my gwon say no? Massah do what Massah wan's do; no sense make a fuss. 'Sides whatevah him at down dere feel good. Worrisome at fust, but af'er I relax, comes dis mighty wave o' pleasure. Drown me, it so pow'ful, den  buoy me up to Heaven. Lef' dis big ol' stain, dough; 'pears I wet de bed. Sneak de sheet pas' Beulah down de washroom an' scrub it clean dis mo'nin'. Her don' ketch me at it, but her do cas' me a look. Same wit Tessie. Even Marisee, when her see me, squinch up 'er face'less I's imag'nin' it. Could be. Don' feel no diff'ent—'cep' fo' being mad. Not so much at him 's mad at me fo' likin' what he done.

            Anyhow, don' 'pose Massah do it again; him jumpin' de broom tomorrow. Think I know dat a while, wiffout I pay  it heed. Massah nev' done  mention it; was Marisee one dat tol' me. Her say, "Know us gettin' a Mist'ess come nex' Sat'day?" Make me feel kine sick. Anxious, what I mean, like somethin' bad gwon happen, like lightnin' flash an' claps o' thundah spell out what o' who it strike. If lightnin' sho 'nuff flash, Jewel likely have ta duck.