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So yiver'body 'low' dat so 'cep' Zack Badget, whut been tellin' de ghost-tale, an' he ain' gwine say "Yis" an' he ain' gwine say "No," 'ca'se he right sweet on de school-teacher; but he know right well he done seen plinty ghostes in he day. So he boun' to be sure fust.
"Weel, it was an awfu' like thing, ye may be sure, to quaiet fowk, sic as we was a' 'cep' for the drinkin' an' sic like, sin' ever the auld captain cam, wi' his reprobat w'ys it was a sair thing, I'm sayin', to hae a deid man a' at ance upo' oor han's; for, lat the men du 'at they like, the warst o' 't aye comes upo' the women.
It was Jeff who put the question, and Bud, looking on, saw the steely gleam that lit the man's eyes as he spoke. But Ju's amiability was passing. He was getting tired of a subject which dealt with another man's profit. He rolled his cigar across his mouth. "Here. Guess I best tell you the yarn as we know it. Y'see," he added regretfully, "we ain't learned a heap 'cep' jest the racket of it.
You couldn't git ober de mountain-tops 'cept you had wings, an' you couldn't climb ober de pres'pisses 'cep you was a monkey or a skirl though it am bery lubly, no doubt." The negro's comments were strictly correct, though somewhat uncouthly expressed.
An' dey wuz a-drillin' an' a-drillin' all 'bout for a while an' dey went 'long wid all de res' o' de army, an I went wid Marse Chan an' clean he boots, an' look arfter de tent, an' tek keer o' him an' de hosses. An' Marse Chan, he wan' a bit like he use' to be. He wuz so solum an' moanful all de time, at leas' 'cep' when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight.
"The wuman's no worth yer notice, 'cep to haud oot o' her gait, laddie; an' that ye had better luik till, for she's no canny. Dinna ye anger her again gien ye can help it. She has an ill luik, an' I canna bide her. Hae, there's yer siller. Jean, tak in this fish."
He greeted her and would have passed on, but she stopped him, addressing him in her soft, flowery, native tongue. "It is of Rosebud," she said, her dark eyes looking solemnly up into his. "My brother, the great chief, he love her, and in his love is danger for her. I come. And I tell her these things. You love her. So, it is good. You know Indian as no other knows, 'cep' my man.
The marquis strode several times up and down the floor. "I 'll give you a thousand pounds for those letters," he said, suddenly stopping in front of Miss Horn. "They 're o' nae sic worth, my lord I hae yer ain word for 't. Pairt wi' them I will not, 'cep' to him 'at pruves himsel' the richtfu' heir to them." "A husband inherits from his wife." "Or maybe her son micht claim first I dinna ken.
'I des wanter tell you dat I wish mighty bad Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz here, sezee. "Den Mr. Buzzard try ter talk like Brer Fox: "'W'at you want wid Mr. Buzzard? sezee. "'Oh, nuthin' in 'tickler, 'cep' dere's de fattes' gray squir'l in yer dat ever I see, sezee, 'en ef Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz 'roun' he'd be mighty glad fer ter git 'im, sezee. "'How Mr.
So yiver'body 'low' dat so 'cep' Zack Badget, whut been tellin' de ghost-tale, an' he ain' gwine say "Yis" an' he ain' gwine say "No," 'ca'se he right sweet on de school-teacher; but he know right well he done seen plinty ghostes in he day. So he boun' to be sure fust.
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