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A second's glance showed it to be Caleb. The Trapper laid one finger on his lips and shook his head. Yan nodded assent, gathered the knots, and went back to the camp, where Sam continued: "You skinned him out of his last cent, old Boyle says." "An' whoi not, when he throid to shkin me? Before that I was helpin' him, an' fwhat must he do but be ahfter swappin' horses.
Brady looked after him and smilingly shook her head: "He may say it's the tay, but there was some preschription in that bit o' blue paaperr I was ahfter destroyin' that was the pain-killer this toime for the poor young gintleman. Me prrivit opinion is that he, too, is a-missin' the swate eyes o' Miss Molly Brown!"
"Of course," I said, "I mean the loveliest nation after Americans." I thought he might have taken that for granted. Instead, he looked incredulous and smiled, in an observing, superior way. "Why do you say 'ahfter'?" he asked. His tone was sweetly acidulated. "Why do you say 'affter'?" I replied simply.
It's pow'ful hard on a man wot's worked all day ter have ter tote apples ahfter night, but dar ain' no other way ob gittin' dat dar money." "I spec' de orchard whar you's thinkin' o' gwine is Mahs'r Morrises," said the minister. "You don' 'spose Ise gwine ter any ob dose low down orchards on de udder side de creek, does ye? Mahs'r Morris has got the bes' apples in dis county.
He jus' looks ober de gate at de cullud angel an' he says: 'No 'mittance ahfter six o'clock. An' den he go in to his supper." "An' wot dat cullud angel do den?" asked Eliza, who had been listening breathlessly to this narrative. "Dunno," said Isham, "but I reckin de debbil come 'long in de night an' tuk him off.
His housekeeper, who was bringing in his tea, heard him and almost dropped the tray in her alarm. "And is it the schtomic ache ye be ahfter havin'?" "No, Mrs. Brady, it is higher up than the stomach. I am glad to see my tea. 'The beverage which cheers but does not inebriate' may make me feel better." "Phwat ye need is a wife to look ahfter ye and keep ye straight.
De ole mule was a pow'ful triflin' critter an' he got lazier an' lazier, an' 'fore long he got so dreffle slow dat it tuk him more'n one day ter go from de Coht House ter de crossroads, an' he allus come in de day ahfter mail-day, when de people was done gone home. So de cullud man, Harris, he says: "'You is too ole fur ter carry de mail, you triflin' mule, an' I hain't got no udder use fur you.
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