human
Sis Cynthy, we-all in trebbilation and we gotter holp dis hyer pore chile. She lak fer ter breck her heart 'bout de Empress and she sho will if dis hyer colt come ter harm. Please, ma'am, gimme a basin o' fresh, warm milk. Bud he done gone down ter 'Napolis fer a nussin' bottle, but dat baby yonder gwine faint an' die fo' dat no 'count nigger git back wid dat bottle. I knows HIM, I does.
gpt
Howyo' gwine mak' dat colt drink?
human
De Lawd on'y knows, but HE gwine show me how, was Mammy Lucy's pious answer. The next second she cried
gpt
Praise Him! _I_ got it,