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"Perhaps I dreamed that somebody told me Colonel Preston had left you five thousand dollars in his will." "Are you jokin'? Is it true?" asked Andy, eagerly, something in the doctor's face telling him that he really meant what he said. "Maybe I dreamed, too, that the colonel left your mother the house she used to live in." "Is it true, doctor? Tell me, quick!" said Andy, trembling with excitement.
Why not?" "I aint a w'ite boy." "What of it? Don't you learn well enough over at the school?" "More dar like me. Wot'd I do in a place whar all de res' was w'ite?" "Well as anybody." "Wot'll my mudder say, w'en she gits de news? You isn't a jokin', is you, Dab Kinzer?" "Joking? I guess not." "You's lit on me powerful sudden, 'bout dis.
"But, you see, she doesn't." "Eh what? What, Peter?" "Prudence doesn't love me!" "Doesn't " "Not by any means." "Peter ye're jokin'." "No, Ancient." "But I I be all took aback mazed I be not love ye, an' me wi' my 'eart set on it are ye sure?" "Certain." "'Ow d'ye know?" "She told me so." "But why why shouldn't she love ye?" "Why should she?" "But I I'd set my 'eart on it, Peter."
Jist as we wos partin' I said, says I, `D'ye know what it wos we lived on for a week arter we wos well-nigh starved in the prairies? "`What, says he, `when we got yon capital marrow-bones? "`The same, says I; `yon was horseflesh, says I, `an' I think ye'll sur'ly niver say again that it isn't first-rate livin'. "`Yer jokin', says he, turnin' pale.
Knocker, and I lives in Primrose Court, Great Queen Street, and my reg'lar perfession is a-sellin' coffee "so airly in the mornin'," and I've got a darter as ain't quite so 'ansom as me, bein' the moral of her father as is over the water a-livin' in the fine 'Straley. 'Well, mother, said Cyril, 'and what did the shiny Quaker say? 'They calls me "Jokin' Meg" in Primrose Court.
There's awkward kin' o' holes aboot thae vouts, an' jist whaur ye think there's nane. I dinna a'thegither like yer gaein' wantin' me." "Nonsense! Go along," said the marquis. "But I'm no jokin'," persisted Malcolm. "Yes, yes; we'll be careful," returned his master impatiently, and Malcolm ran down the hill, but not altogether satisfied with the assurance.
"I ain't much fur readin'. I ain't like Teacher." He frowned and looked at her darkly. "I've took notice how much fur books you are that way. Last Sunday night, too, you sayed, 'Let me read somepin to you. Mebbe you and Teacher will be settin' up readin' together. And mebbe the Doc wasn't just jokin' when he sayed Teacher might cut me out!"
"In transactin' business it ain't no time for jokin'," protested the direct Mr. Nute. "There's no joke to it," returned the Cap'n, viciously, seizing a pickaxe. "It ain't much of a way for a first selectman of a town to act in public," persisted Constable Nute, "when town business is put before him."
"Sounds interesting," said Trask. "Mebbe you think I'm jokin' of you?" said Jarrow. "Not at all. I wouldn't put murder beyond that lot. There's something I've wanted to tell you since we left Manila, but I didn't want to do anybody an injustice." "What's that?" "Somebody stole one of my automatic pistols before I'd been aboard a quarter of an hour." "No!" "Yes.
I'm far eneuch frae jeistin'. Ye dinna ken fervour frae jokin', Jeames Johnstone." "He micht tak' the law upo's for defamin' o' 's character; and that wad be an awfu' thing for puir fowk like us, Thamas." "Aye the same thing ower again, Jeames! That's the pairt o' a colt and no o' a Christian." "But arena we tellt to be wise as serpents?" "Ye wad tak' a heap o' tellin' upo' that heid, Jeames."
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