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S'posed like nuff he was somebuddy's brother. Mout's well be your'n ez anybuddy's. I dunno who ye be. All I knows is that ye've been here fifteen minutes and now ye must leave. Don' keep me waitin, nuther. Thay ain' nobuddy tendin bar." "Don't make him mad, Perez, or else he won't let ye come again," whispered Reuben, who saw that his brother was on the point of some violent outburst.
"I wuz gonter wait an' git Isr'el Goodrich tew go long an kinder speak fer me, ef I could," said Mrs. Poor. "He's considabul thought on by folks roun' here, and he's a neighbor o' ourn, an real kind, Isr'el Goodrich is. But I don' see him nowhar roun', an mebbe we mout's well go right along, an not wait no longer."
"Oh! I say, 'Ockins," whispered Ebony at this point, "my mout's a-waterin'." "Well, mine's somethin' in the same way," returned the seaman, "but we haven't a rap to buy with."
Thought I wuz a-comin to the p'int, maybe. Well, nex' time'll do. Haw! haw! Young things is cur'us now, to be shore. Mout's well be a gittin' on, I reckon. Gin her time to come round, I 'low." With such wooing, renewed from time to time, the clumsy and complacent Dave whiled away his days, and comforted himself that he had the persimmon-tree all to himself, as he expressed it.
Youse fellers er lookin' fer a scrap an' it's damn likely yeh'll fin' one if yeh keeps on shootin' off yer mout's. I know yehs! See? I kin lick better men dan yehs ever saw in yer lifes. Dat's right! See? Don' pick me up fer no stuff er yeh might be jolted out in deh street before yeh knows where yeh is. When I comes from behind dis bar, I t'rows yehs bote inteh deh street. See?"
Thar ain't been nary sheriff's sale, nor a man tuk ter jail this hull week." "Iry Seymour wuz a gonter sell aout Elnathan Hamlin this week, but somehow he hain't got tew it," said Abner, dryly. "I callate he heard some news from Barrington baout Tuesday." "Iry mout's well give up his comishin ez depity sheriff an try ter git inter some honest trade," remarked Israel.
And this man, the member of a doomed, a fated race, who had been trodden down for ages, comprehending the danger, said, "Some one must die to get us out of this, and it mout's well be me as anybody; you are soldiers, and you can fight. If they kill me it is nothing." And with these words he arose, gave the boat a push, received a number of bullets, and died within two days after.
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