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Lay down yo'n, an' we'll lay down ou'n, we didn' take 'em up fust; but we ain' gwine ter let you bu'n down ou' chu'ches an' school'ouses, er dis hospittle, an' we ain' comin' out er dis house, where we ain' disturbin' nobody, fer you ter shoot us down er sen' us ter jail. You hear me!" "All right," responded McBane. "You've had fair warning.
'Twas as good a job as Doc Gray ever done in the hospittle. I hope you're doin' well, sir." He pulled his forelock, placed one foot behind the other, and tapped it on the planking, grinning expansively. "Very well indeed, thank you." O'Neil's progress was slow, for half the crowd insisted upon shaking his hand and exchanging a few words with him.
She wrote it painfully, laboriously, in round blocky letters. Pearl always put her tongue out when she was doing anything that required minute attention. She was so anxious to have the address just right that her tongue was almost around to her ear. The address read: Miss Polly Bragg, english gurl and sick with fever Brandon Hospittle Brandon. Then she drew a design around it.
Dey're gwine ter bu'n yo' new hospittle, ef somebody don' stop 'em." "Josh men you are throwing your lives away. It is a fever; it will wear off to-morrow, or to-night. They'll not burn the schoolhouses, nor the hospital they are not such fools, for they benefit the community; and they'll only kill the colored people who resist them.
In the 2nd place im runnin shy of dust an id admire for to receave about a months pay which i wont charge two you bein as ive already spent more then i ought two its a good thing i got a return ticket or id be in a hell of a fix when i got ready to come back last nite the doctor at the hospittle said hed operate on ed today which hes already done this mornin an eds restin easy though the doc dont know whether hes goin to git well or not but hes hopin an ile let you know by telegraph if he gits any worse which is all for this time.
But they've been dyin' off, or movin' away or somethin', an' when old man Rogers died there wasn't no one for him to leave the prop'ty to but a hospittle or somethin'. An' the hospittle aint never come to live there, or nothin', an' it's stayed empty. I went over there once last summer, an' peeked into the winders. ... But Mr.
I replied in a hospittle vois "Glad to see you." "He is an artist, father," sed my child. "A whichist?" "An artist. A painter." "And glazier," I askt. "Air you a painter and glazier, sir?" My dauter and wife was mad, but I couldn't help it; I felt in a comikil mood.
Josh, with the eye of a general, perceived that some of his party were becoming a little nervous, and decided that they would feel safer behind shelter. "I reckon we better go inside de hospittle, boys," he exclaimed. "Den we'll be behind brick walls, an' dem other fellows 'll be outside, an' ef dere's any fightin', we'll have de bes' show.