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"Or, I might impart about a Mexican fooneral where the hearse is a blanket with two poles along the aige, the same as one of these battle litters; of the awful songs the mournful Mexicans sings about departed; of the candles they burns an' the dozens of baby white-pine crosses they sets up on little jim-crow stone-heaps along the trail to the tomb; meanwhiles, howlin' dirges constant.
"Lord bless you, Mr Lascelles," was the reply, "the canvas ain't wove that'd stand a single minute before such a howlin' gale as this here; it'd be blown clean out of the gaskets if we was to cast a single one of 'em loose; indeed, I shouldn't be a bit surprised to find half the sails blown away from the spars as it is, when we get light enough to see how the little barkie has come out of the scrimmage.
'Well, howlin' preacher, if you are boun' to preach you shall preach, an' he swore I should have enough of it. 'Next Sunday, at eleven o'clock you shall preach; I'm going to invite all the white folks an' black people 'round here to cum to hear de big preacher. 'Now we'll have a big meetin' to hear de big preacher. You understan', do you? 'Yes, massa, I say, an' he sent me away.
But as I takes in three aces, an' as the harvest tharof is crowdin' hard towards two hundred dollars, I concloodes, final, them dogs don't have me on their mind after all; an' so I'm appeased a whole lot. Still, I'm cur'ous to know whatever they're howlin' about anyhow. "'Which you're too conceited, Boggs, says Tutt, cuttin' in on the powwow. 'You-all is allers thinkin' everythin' means you.
Well she happened to drap it offen her buzzum, inter the poultry yard, and soons ever she mist it she run rite out after it; but the shank-hye rooster he run fastern she did with his long legs and gobbled it rite down, afore his eyes. And the poor gals bin a howlin and bawlin and brakin of her poor hart ebout it ever since.
Black Dennis Nolan brooded all day by the stove with his big hands clasped idly between his knees. The grandmother sat near him, in a tattered armchair, smoking her pipe and mumbling wise saws and broken stories of the past. "I bes a storm-child," she mumbled. "Aye, sure, wasn't I born a night in winter wid jist sich a flurry as this one howlin' over Chance Along aye, an' wid a caul over me face.
'The non-coms tuk Peg Barney a howlin' handful he was an' in three minutes he was pegged out chin down, tight-dhrawn on his stummick, a tent-peg to each arm an' leg, swearin' fit to turn a naygur white. 'I tuk a peg an' jammed ut into his ugly jaw.
I know now what folks mean when they talk about a howlin' wilderness. Always thought 'twas one o' them figgers o' speech, but I'll tell the world it ain't no joke! Gosh! Think of all the things that's layin' out there and bellerin' and waitin' for us pore li'l' fellers to come in amongst 'em and git et up." "You'll find the same things in the cities up home," said Knowlton, a bit cynically.
"He went on to explain that the automobile had broke down when he struck the flat, and he couldn't get no farther. He'd been honkin' and howlin' for ten year at least, so he reckoned. "'Why in time, says I, 'didn't you mind me and go up the ocean side? And why in nation didn't you go ashore and But never mind that now. Let me think. Here! You set where you be.
I didn't think twice I just filled up the cups o' them two, an' then I sails downstairs, two at a time, an' opened the door o' first floor front without rappin'. The kid was there in its little nightgown, howlin' fer fair because it had be'n left alone with its boy brother. The Tomato Ketchup an' her husband was to a wake.
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