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"0 Crippy! they say they're goin'to kill you, an' I'd a heap sooner they'd kill me! What shall we do, Crippy? The goose made no reply; he was perfectly content to nestle down in Dan's arms, and, so far as he could see, he and his master were in remarkably comfortable quarters.
"What fo axel grease gointo hep? an I tol her, an she say: "Axel grease put on hot, wid red flannel goin'to tak it away chile." Ah were an ol' woman mahse'f den bout fifty, but mammy she climb outa bed an go out in de yard where deys an ol' wagon, an she scrapes dat axel off, an heat it up an put it on wid red flannel. Den ah got easy!
Goin' straight to hell, my Lawd! An' he clim an' he slide, an' he slide, an' he clim, an' all time holler: 'Now 'm a-goin' to heavum; now 'm a-goin' to hell! Goin'to heavum, heavum, heavum, my Lawd! Las' he slide all a-way down, jes' a-squallin' an' a-kickin' an' a-rarin' up an' squealin', 'Goin' to hell. Goin' to hell! Ole Satum got my soul! Goin' to hell! Goin' to hell!
Danny, who was also a guest, declared his purpose one day to lead a band of rough riders to the Western plains, where he would kill Indians, and escape fearful deaths by the narrowest hairbreadth. "Mebbe I'm goin'to be Premier of Canada, some day," said one youngster, poking his bare toes as near as he dared to the flames. There were hoots of derision.
Uncle Ethan tugged the two cases up and set them down on the floor of the kitchen. Mrs. Ripley opened a bottle and smelled of it like a cautious cat. "Ugh! Merciful sakes, what stuff! It ain't fit f'r a hog to take. What'd you think you was goin'to do with it?" she asked in poignant disgust. "I expected to take it if I was sick. Whaddy ye s'pose?"
Wiley opened the door under the sink, and from beneath a huge iron pot drew a round tray loaded with a glass pitcher and half a dozen tumblers, which he placed carefully on the kitchen table. "This is the last day's option I've got on this lemonade-set," he said, "an' if I'm goin'to Biddeford to-morrer I've got to make up my mind here an' now."
"Hear folks is trespassin' on your land, Norton. Name of Crane and Keith. Haulin' logs acrost. No contract with you? No contract with Plumm?" "No contract." "Hain't got a right to do it, have they?" "No." "If I owned that land I'd give 'em notice," said Scattergood. "G'-by, Norton. Goin'to Boston to-day. Set tight, Norton. G'-by."
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