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The' was plenty o' hard talk, b'fore an' after; an' when it come t' breakin' her windows with stones an' hittin' her in th' head, so she was 'bleeged t' have three stitches took, all I c'n say is I don't wonder she went t' Boston.... Anyway, that's my wish an' d'sire 'bout that cake." The arrival of Mr. and Mrs.
Besides, strenger, I've some partickler bizness jest now, that I'm 'bleeged to see to." "Oh, never mind! I shall not need any refreshment till I reach Swampville." "Wal, then, I'll bid you good-mornin' at the same time wishin' you luck o' your bargin." "Thanks good morning!" I leaped into the saddle, and turned my horse's head towards the entrance of the enclosure.
Joe dolorously shook his head. "Waal, ef ever ye kem hyar talkin' 'bout'n it agin, I'll be 'bleeged ter take down my rifle ter ye." Joe gazed, unmoved, into the fire. "An' that would be mighty hard on me, Joe, 'kase ye be so pop'lar 'mongst all, I dunno what the kentry-side would do ter me ef I war ter put a bullet inter ye. Ye air a young man, Joe.
An' he be 'bleeged ter hev hearn me, fur arter I crost I stopped. Nuthin'. Jes' a whisper o' wind, an' jes' a swishin' from the ruver. I knowed then he hed turned off inter the laurel.
"Now I do hope Cousin Ann will like her summer coverings," he said. "She's sho' too an' we's moughty 'bleeged ter you, Marse Jeff. Miss Ann an' me air jes' been talkin' 'bout how much you favors yo' gran'pap, Marse Bob Bucknor as war. I don't want ter put no disrespec' on yo' gran'mammy, but if Marse Bob Bucknor had er had his way Miss Ann would er been her."
"Naw, Hilary, I don't want nuthin' ter drink. 'Bleeged ter ye, but I ain't wantin' nuthin' ter drink," reiterated the miller, plaintively. Isham Beaton cast a glance of alarm at the dimly seen, monastic face of his adviser in the gloom. It was unchanged.
"Her's at 'ome, safe," said Rais Ali, touching a formidable key which was stuck in his silken girdle. "What! have you locked her up?" "Yis 'bleeged to do so for keep her safe." "Not alone, I hope?" said Mrs Langley. "No, not 'lone. Her's got a bootiflul cat, an' I means buy her a little nigger boy soon."
Well, the wings don't come, such big butterflies have to grub it in spite of Old Nick, and after wishin' and wishin' ever so long in vain, one of the young galls sits down and sings in rael right down airnest, 'I won't be a nun. Poor critter! there is some sense in that, but I guess she will be bleeged to be, for all that.
'I'm bleeged to come in an' res' an' have a meal, he don' said, and then he went on with his pack totin' at his heels. "Fo' de Lord, Sandy Morley, shet off that snortin', roarin' fire or I'll fetch yo' a real old-time lick!" Sandy ran to regulate the dampers, his face radiant and boyish. He was enjoying, as he never had enjoyed anything in his life before, the dear home-atmosphere of his hills.
"I done tuck mah troubles to de Lawd, whichin He 'bleeged ter know I cyant deal wid ol' Mis' Scarlett an' de Doctor. Missis, I prayed!" "Oh! And what happened then?" The old man looked around him, cautiously, and lowered his voice: "Wellum, Mis' Scarlett she tuck an' went an' up an' died. Yessum! She done daid.
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