United States or Timor-Leste ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Wonder if you'd drive my boss and buggy over and fix up a deal with the president of the bank?" "Glad to 'bleege," said the flattered Mr. Spackles. "Circus day," Scattergood repeated. "Been to a circus lately, Mis' Penny?" "Hain't seen one for years." "No?... Mr. Spackles, what be you thinkin' of? To be sure. Why, you kin bundle Mis' Penny into the buggy and take her along with you!
Now, if any man suspect me to go on work ob dis a kind in de day time, when ebery body see me in you company, he as much mistake as when he kiss his granny for a gal. De night is de proper time for sich a dark business, and it suit me better if I 'scuse altogeder from it. But I wish to 'bleege you, Missa Basset.
Of cose, I does preach Heaven yit, but I bleege ter preach it f'om de Hell side, an' shoo 'em in!"
"I ain't a-beggin' yer fur no gol' an' silver wheels fur de passenger trains for de saints, 'caze yer know de passenger kyars wha' ride inter de city o' de King, dey 'bleege ter have gol' and silver wheels ter match de golden streets; but, I say, I ain't axin' yer fur no gol' an' silver wheels to-day, nur no kindlin'! De train is all made up an' de ingine is a steamin', an' de b'ilers is full.
"Don't spoil those feathers, you meddlesome creature!" "Merely admirin' the colors. Pretty sort of a thing, this 'ere! 'Most too light and fuzzy for a duster, a'n't it? Feathers ben dyed, most likely? Willin' to 'bleege the fair, however, especially one so handsome."
"No," said Squire Pleasants, his experience appealed to instead of his judgment; "no, I ain't, that's a fact; but some folks youer bleege to take on trus'." Further comment on the part of Poteet and the others was arrested by the appearance of Woodward, who came out of his room, walked rapidly down the narrow hallway, and out upon the piazza.
Louis Chartrand.’ “I ’lows don’t wants no drink, much ’bleege, Marse Grégor’. ‘Yis, you wants drink,’ an’ ’id dat he draws he pistol. ‘Mista Chartrand want drink, too. I done owe Mista Chartrand somethin’ dis long time; I’se gwine pay ’im wid a treat,’ he say. Chartrand look like he on fiar, he so red, he so mad, he swell up same like ole bull frog.”
Word Of The Day